Chicago 2040: Action 2
by steelraven
Summary: The plot thickens - mercenaries, ripperdocs, and a mission to Antarctica...
1. Glances

Glances

Glances  
_By Mitch, Shaine, and Shatterclaw. Individual rating: PG._

Mitch Wolfstone cautiously sipped at a too-hot cup of coffee as he sat in the Chicago ADP break room. He glanced out the window.

"Hey...isn't that Erik Kohl? The vice president of Genom?"

"Yeah." Detective Jacob, an ADP Boomer, nodded. "His niece got mugged yesterday...looks like one of the Birdman cases but there's something funny going on there. She said 'Birdman' in German but then claimed not to have even seen it."

"Huh. That's odd." Mitch took another sip of his coffee. It was cooling down a bit, now.

Suddenly the diminutive woman standing next to Kohl started shouting. Mitch couldn't hear through the glass, and couldn't read her lips - she was probably speaking in German again. Kohl snarled something back at her, and she recoiled visibly. After a few moments, she began to cry and he folded her into his arms.

"That's horrible!" Mitch gasped, clearly quite disturbed.

Jacob gave him an odd look. "The girl's not exactly a sterling character either. Haven't gotten any reports back on her, yet, but I wouldn't be surprised if she were as bad as him."

Mitch still worried about her...but he tried to put it out of his mind. "Want some coffee?"

Jacob tapped his head, as if to say _Made in Japan_, then said, "Nah. I usually don't drink that stuff."

///

Two days later, the explosion of a plane at O'Hare drove Shaine Kohl out of the ADP's collective thoughts. Mitch spent the entire day after that sifting through bits of wreckage, unable to get the whole thing out of his mind. Erik Kohl had never been too much of a media darling, or famed for his kindness, but Mitch was beginning to truly dislike the man. All of the Birdman reports up to that point had been positive, benevolent acts and he just couldn't bring himself to believe that these Steel Ravens had taken out Genom's special delivery because of spite.

But it was time to go home and forget about it, at least for a while. He collected a few papers and disks to peruse later that night and left, locking the door behind him.

It was a pleasant enough day and he didn't live too far away, so he decided to walk home instead of taking the B EL. The downtown area was beginning to come alive as evening drew near. People crowded the streets...

Wrapped up in the industrialized beauty of it, Mitch failed to notice the young woman with the laptop until it was too late. She brought her arms up around the computer as she fell, apparently more concerned for its well-being than her own.

"Sorry! Sorry..."

The blue-eyed woman, her hair in a rather unusual layered style, got to her feet and walked off without saying a word.

Mitch stared after her. She looked just like Shaine Kohl...and there were bruises on her face and arms.

"Hello? Can I help you?" She kept going as if she hadn't heard him.

_She must be connected to this,_ Mitch thought as he began to follow her.

She was headed for a low rent district...not a nice place to live. Mitch began to think about what Jacob had said. Was she in league with Kohl? Or a victim? The black and blue mark over her cheekbone didn't look like it had been caused by a hand. More like she'd fallen, or run into something.

The woman stopped as her cell phone began to ring.

"Yeah? Aw, Bell..." Her eyes narrowed as she listened to the person on the other end. "I'll take care of it later.

"La-ter. Do you understand that word?"

She hung up, then ducked over toward a side street. Opening the case at her side, she pulled out a laptop and inserted what looked like a PCMCIA card. She started typing.

Mitch couldn't see it or her very well. It was getting darker, and shadows covered them. Finally, the woman switched to a one-armed hold, giving up on her attempt to keep it in place with just a leg for support, and typed with her left hand only. She was nearly as fast that way as most people were with both hands.

Now Mitch could see the screen. There was a large dialog with the Genom logo on it. She typed furiously, then switched windows, typed in what looked like a login, and waited. A moment later she swore under her breath and began shutting the machine down.

_What is she doing getting involved with such a scummy organization?_

The cell phone rang again as she packed the computer away. "All right, all right...it's locked solid. I'll have to find another way in tomorrow. See you then."

She was about to hang up when she appeared to hear a voice calling to her from the other end. She brought the phone back up to her ear and began pacing across the alley as she listened.

"How about a direct link into their mainframe?" Belladonna asked.

"You can't do that. They've got it locked down too tight. Access permissions restricted to on-site machines only.

"I have a few other toys to try, but that's more risky."

"If only we could get into their offices...I'm sure we could bypass that crap they call programming."

Shaine winced. "And do you think they'll just let us walk in the front door?"

"Hmm, well there's a first time for everything..."

Mitch radioed his partner: "Get everything we have on Shaine Kohl, copy."

"Crim wants to know if you want to meet with him."

Shaine thought about it. "Yeah."

"Sure thing," Mitch's partner replied. "I'll have a copy of the file for you when you get back."

"Ten-four."

"Half an hour, at the pool hall downtown. Later." Shaine closed the cell phone again.

///

Erik shifted nervously in his chair. Carter was gloating far too much; the call from Tokyo had to have something to do with his recent failure.

He couldn't let himself think about it. Instead he thought of the few records of the battle on the highway after the Raven's planes crashed. Yes, that was much better.

In fact, he had to fight to keep a dazed smile off of his face as he thought about that one Raven and her incredible strength of mind. It would be a nice change of pace to have someone like her, be able to put some effort into breaking down her resistance. The only thing he couldn't stand about Boomers was that they were too damned tractable.

The phone console chimed. "Ah...that must be Mr. Mason now." Carter smiled as she accepted the connection.

"Ms. Carter. Do you have the Steel Ravens for us?"

"No, but I have the one who lost them. Mr. Mason, I believe you know Erik Kohl?"

"Ah, yes, we've met," Erik interjected. "I believe it was the defense convention in Tokyo two years ago?"

"Indeed." Mason clearly wasn't pleased by the interruption. Kohl was a fop and fond of Boomers on top of it; Mason couldn't stand him.

However, he was a useable fop. Much better than that harpy Carter.

"I sincerely hope that we can put this behind us and find some way for me to atone," Erik continued smoothly, smiling at Mason. He didn't think the other man was the type to fall prey to his false charms, but there was no harm in trying. "After all, as Ms. Carter has said, I have never failed the company before."

"Why, Erik...I don't remember saying that!" Carter batted her eyelashes at him.

"_I_ remember it," Mason replied, and was slightly shocked when Erik winked at him. Carter's back was turned to her subordinate, and she missed the gesture.

Mason indicated his receipt of the message with a slight jerk of his chin, almost a nod. "Now, if we could get down to business...?"

///

The pool hall was just on the edge of the rebuilt district, and not much nicer than the area surrounding Shaine's apartment. She paid for a table and chose the shortest cue.

Mitch, following close behind, found a spot at the bar. _A meeting with Erik, dear?_ Her bruised face and the intent expression she'd worn during the phone conversations made her seem much older...too old to be Kohl's niece. And far too old to be the girl who'd cried her eyes out onto his shoulder half a week ago. Mitch began to wonder if she really was who she said she was. _His wife, perhaps? Or his toy. Maybe that's why she didn't want to come down to the station and talk about the mugging. She's afraid her story won't stand up to questioning..._

A large, dark-skinned man began to walk toward her. "Hey, man! Where ya been?" Shaine went up to him and embraced him.

_Another boyfriend? _Mitch asked the barkeep for a cup of coffee. It was awful, but warm.

"Right here playing pool, kiddo."

Shaine went up on her tiptoes and began to whisper to him.

"Crim, there's a man tailing me. Looks like police."

"Yeah, I know."

_Something's up...what are they saying?_

"He's tailing you? Why?"

"I don't know. I ran into him on the street and he just started following me."

"Is he ADP?"

"Looks like it. Nice clothes, but not too expensive...and knows how to stay out of sight pretty well."

Mitch sipped the coffee as he continued to watch. _Conversation's getting pretty tense. Jealous ex? There's something here that I just can't put my finger on..._

"He's over at the bar..." Shaine laughed softly. "Drinking _coffee_."

"So, how's life been?" Crimson's voice was pitched louder...obviously meant to be heard. It was a feeble remark to be making so far into an emotionally charged conversation.

"Great, great!"

"Yep," Crimson whispered. "ADP, probably a scientist or support staff." Then he raised his voice again. "I'm getting hungry. What about you? Want to go grab something to eat?" He didn't give her a chance to answer. They rushed out the door, his arm around her in a possessive fashion.

Mitch threw a couple of dollars on the table to pay for the coffee, then followed them out.

///

_Well,_ Erik thought. _Perhaps that wasn't so bad._

He hummed to himself a little as he walked back down to the labs. Evon stood near the door, leaning over a subordinate's shoulder.

Evon turned. "You're going to have to tell me more about what we're using this new design for. I can't go any further on what you've given me."

"Of course. If, ah...we could go into my office?" Evon reluctantly followed him.

Once inside, Erik sat down and rested his chin upon one hand, staring off at an angle toward the window.

"Well? Are you going to give me the new Boomer specs or aren't you?"

Still gazing out the window, Erik murmured, "Actually, there was something I was hoping you could tell _me_."

"Oh?"

_This isn't the way I wanted to bring this up...but I do need a new Boomer soon and I want it to be as true to life as possible._ "That tattoo Shaine had on her back...what was it again? I only ever got to see a little of it."

"Tattoo? Erik, you're out of your mind! She never had any tattoo!"

"Oh. I suppose she didn't tell you. Or show you, rather. I just saw a bit of it, like I said. It looked like some sort of circle...made out of rope? Some sort of coil?"

Something in Evon's face changed. _Switching to Intellectual Mode, I see. Nice trick, to be able to counter any trauma by treating it as if it were an engineering dilemma._

"An...ouroborous, maybe? She always loved that show 'Millennium,' and that was the logo. And Dana Scully on 'The X-Files' had one like that. An in-joke."

"Ah...yes, that _does _sound like her." Erik smiled contentedly. He turned to look at his brother. "Yes, I think I have those new specs right here." He slid a manila folder out of his desk drawer and set it on top of the desk.

///

Mitch heard Shaine's voice drift out of the alley. He cautiously approached the corner, then peered in.

The next thing he saw clearly was the barrel of Shaine's gun. The huge, dark-skinned man with her must have pulled him off of his feet as he was dragged into the alley.

"Hold it right there, ADP."

"Play nice, Mrs. Kohl," Mitch shot back.

"Mrs. ...?" Shaine looked puzzled. "No. She died three years ago."

Mitch raised his hands in surrender.

"Get in the car." Shaine got into the backseat with him, then the Barracuda turned into traffic.

"Hey, Chief, what's your badge number?" That was the large man, who was driving. Shaine got out her laptop again, and connected via cellmodem. She had no trouble breaking into the ADP's personnel files.

"The name's Mitch."

"Got 'im, Crimson." 

_Cyberthugs,_ Mitch thought.

Shaine laughed in triumph. "He's a police scientist! We've got ourselves a lab coat!

"You're pretty good for a lab coat, ADP..."

"Had one already. He died."

"So where are we going?" Mitch asked.

"I could tell you but then I'd have to kill you. Don't you know that?" Mitch smiled at her, and she smiled right back.

"What are you doing in my car?" Crimson asked.

No answer.

"Hey!" 

Mitch played it cool; he still had the revolver at his ankle and Shaine's attention seemed divided between the Miyako in her left hand and the laptop in her right.

"He's talking to you, ADP."

"Well?" Crimson stopped the car.

Mitch remained silent. Crimson grinned.

There was a springing motion under Mitch's seat, and the next thing he knew he was flying through the air.

"Crimson?" Shaine asked, worried.

"That was fun."

Shaine laughed a little as she realized that he'd had it all planned. Mitch found himself sitting in the middle of the street, with the seat cushion still beneath him.

"Hey, Crim, turn the radio on!"

Mitch could hear the loud music coming from the car as it drove off: _...tell me something that I don't know/You know nothing about the world around you.../It's not enough/Broken in two/It's not enough..._

"Sure thing, Coyote! BEEP BEEP!" Crimson turned, and the car headed for his house on the New Gold Coast.

///

"This has been a fun night," Mitch muttered to himself. "You and your friend won that one...but you two have just become my new hobby."

Back at the station, Detective Jacob met him at the door. "Are you all right?"

"No!"

"Need coffee?"

"Yes," Mitch sighed desperately.

Jacob set the cup and the file on Shaine Kohl down together on the table.

There wasn't much there. A report on the mugging incident, and a note that she disappeared from her new apartment - bought by Erik Kohl - the next morning. Another note stated that more information had been requested from the Michigan police and the FBI. The department was trying to squeeze some information out of the Windsor police as well, but Canadian officials seemed reluctant to offer any help. Which made it all the more easy for her to hide.

Mitch walked to the records rooms and got a copy of the reports on Crimson. There wasn't much more there, either. Rumor...innuendo...some said he was the "Birdman."

"Birdman, huh?" Mitch murmured as he sipped his coffee.

"Oh, don't tell me you're going after _that _one! You have any idea how many hotshots have taken that one on? And found nothing?"

"What do you know about this?"

"What's in the file. That's it." Jacob lowered his voice. "Looks like Genom's got a vested interest. Whether it's in stopping the Birdman or helping him, I don't know. But Kohl sure went ballistic when the girl mentioned it..."

"Yes, but I guess that's to be expected after a close encounter with these Birdmen. I had one tonight..."

"You _what?_"

"I tailed them but turned up nothing."

"Tailed who?"

"Miss Kohl and her Birdman." Mitch's voice went sour. He sipped at the coffee.

Jacob got out a tape recorder. "Tell me what you saw."

"Put it away, Jacob. This was nothing."

"You do realize that I have to report this...and the fact that you won't discuss it with me."

"Report what? Incredible tales and inconsistent data?"

"There's nothing _but_ rumors and inconsistencies in the Birdman file." Jacob's voice dropped again. "But for some reason, some higher-up wants to keep it from being closed."

"I'm going to find the connection," Mitch announced.

"What connection?"

"They're cyberthugs!"

"_What?_"

"How old is your programming, Jacob?"

"Genom...cyberthugs...the Birdman...and Kohl's niece. Sounds like you've been shooting up with something, man."

"I'm not laughing, Jacob."

Jacob shook his head. "Don't start playing Mulder, Mitch. Those are some hot topics, and if you get the wrong people angry.."

"Sorry." Mitch winced. "I still don't understand why people get so jumpy over office politics."

"I just don't want to see you lose your badge over this."

Mitch finished his coffee, then grabbed his coat. _I need to stop at Murphy's..._

Inside the bar, he soon met its owner and bartender, Angus. "Mitch, do you want a Guinness, lad?"

"Only half a pint tonight, Argus."

Mitch threw a hand of darts to calm his nerves, then walked over to the bar.

"Tough day, lad?"

He grabbed the glass and took a sip. "Yes, and interesting too...

"I just have to watch my step, Argus."

"Aye. The world is a complex place."

Mitch smiled and threw a five on the bar. 

After two more rounds of darts, he was relaxed enough to continue on home.


	2. For Love of the Hunt

For Love of the Hunt

For Love of the Hunt  
_By Harris, Mitch, Shaine, and Shatterclaw. Individual rating: PG-13._

"Shaine, Vicki, get into your suits. There's trouble downtown."

Shaine bit her lip but didn't say anything. Crimson was pushing himself too hard considering that he still had a hypercast on his leg...but she wasn't going to say a word about it... He could barely walk, but Saki and Jinks weren't there to scold him, and Belladonna wasn't around to tell on him.

Shaine was most certainly _not_ going to be the one to tell on him.

Crimson pulled out what looked like a pair of wings attached to an engine, and Vicki helped him put the device on the back of his hardsuit. Then they hit the tubes.

A few short hops later, the three stood on top of a low building overlooking an alley. Inside the alley was an unarmored man fighting a Boomer with a sword.

"What the..." Shaine gasped in amazement.

"He's tough," Crimson said appreciatively, floating just above the roof. "Not too smart, but tough..."

The man stood over the stunned Boomer with his laser sword glowing in his hands. The sword flashed downward, slicing the Boomer's chest open and exposing the core.

"Get some readings, Freefall."

"It's totally fucked up...the Boomer was paralyzed by something.

"That's not possible...is it?"

"EMP?"

"Doesn't look like it."

He then lowered the sword, which ceased glowing as the energy dissipated, and reached into his coat to take out a handgun. He aimed down at the core and fired a round into it.

"No, it doesn't...we worked for a few years on getting our EMP's that small. Anything on the Boomer?"

"Well, it's nothing the government has either, I can tell you that..." Shaine checked her databases. "It looks like another batch of the ones they're tracking, from Tokyo. It's recovering, I think, but the core's getting pulped. Fat lot of good that does it now."

Standing over his kill, the man put his gun back into its holster. Then he reached into his coat again for a pack of cigarettes. He lit up, then turned around slowly and reached for his Desert Eagle.

"Shit! I think he heard us!"

"Vicki, can you shadow dance with him?"

"Please." She jumped down into the alley. "I keep up with you, don't I?"

The man stepped back a few feet as he saw the swirl of dust around Vicki's cloak. He felt, more than saw, that he was not alone...but it was impossible to say what had caused the dust cloud. Vicki ran toward him, leapt up onto the wall and kicked off from it, sailing over her head and gently touching him on the shoulder before landing behind him.

He could see a faint outline now, but nothing clear. He jumped forward, spinning around and firing without hesitation. _Damn it...another Boomer?_

Vicki rebounded off of a wall again, landing on a dumpster. It made a loud _gong_ing noise.

Shaine tensed and leaned forward a little.

"Wait for it...this is a test, not a gang fight."

Vicki turned off her cloak, and the man could see a black-curved hardsuit beneath the trenchcoat. He aimed at her head, not particularly curious as to whether she was a Boomer or something else. At the moment, all that mattered was that she was prey...and that she was _interesting_ prey.

A dagger shot forth from her hand, aimed toward his gun. He dodged left, firing at her. The shots were a little wide, and the gun was still flipped out of his hand. 

It landed nearby but he decided not to go for it. He reached instead for the Glock on his right leg, pulling it out.

The thing in the black armor pantomimed tipping its hat to him.

He fired again, concentrating on her position and where she would be forced to dodge in order to avoid being hit.

"Damn it, the little punk nailed me!"

"Your turn, Freefall. Nothing fancy."

The Boomer hunter was momentarily surprised by the appearance of another hardsuited figure, this one much smaller than the first. She brought up her right arm unflinchingly as the larger one leapt out of the way. He was sure he'd hit her in the leg.

Vicki seemed to fall into a handstand, then disappeared.

"So you think you're special, huh?" the little one asked. He held his fire, staring at her curiously. "How'd you like to play with the big boys and girls? It's a lot better going after the Boomers with at least some armor, you know."

"Yeah, you might live long enough for someone to thank you!" Vicki added, gliding down from the roof again.

Shaine stepped forward, her voice lowered seductively. "Do you hate Genom as much as I do?" Her short, low laughter carried over the suit's external comm.

The man shook his head, kneeling and putting his Glock away. "Obviously I'm outnumbered..." He walked over to the Desert Eagle and picked it up, not even listening. He turned, looking at them again, as he put it away.

"Sure, we save the guy from lung cancer and this is how he thanks us? Whatcha think, Shaine? Should we let him in?"

"Yeah."

"Um...Crim?"

"I like him, Boss, but damn is he dumb..."

"He is the way I once was. ...Well, all right, he _is _a little dumber."

"A _little, _Boss?"

"A little," Crimson repeated firmly.

Vicki put her arm on Shaine's shoulder, and Shaine removed her helmet, smiling at the Boomer hunter. Vicki looked at her in alarm.

"Shaine, no!" Crimson hissed. "That's too risky!"

"So why haven't you killed me?" The man walked toward them, seeing his half-lit cigarette on the ground. He picked it up. "And you made me drop this..." He stared back at them, his eyes cold and emotionless.

"I'd rather kill Boomers," Shaine replied. "Are you going to make us do it?"

"Do what you want. You have the upper hand, but hesitation will get you killed."

A soft rumbling, like thunder, issued from overhead. The man puffed on his cigarette, gazing upward. He saw Crimson decloak, the wings on the glider spread open. The third Raven looked like an avenging angel.

"You fight well," Crimson said. "What is your name?"

"You don't need to know that.

"What is it you want? If you're not going to kill me then I think I'd better get back to work. I still have twelve Boomers to kill on this contract." It was an exaggeration, but the armored strangers would never know that. He tossed the cigarrette to the ground and walked away.

"_Dang,_ he's cute..."

"You're not gonna get any arguments from me on that one." Shaine subvocalized the response so that her comm system would pick it up without letting him hear.

The man stopped suddenly. "Are you going after Genom?"

"Yes."

He turned to look at Crimson after that. "I'm still alive...so what is it you want?"

"Genom Chicago turned into a smoking crater in the ground," Shaine replied swiftly. "But, then, I'm just speaking for me. Not the group."

"And why do you seek an end to Genom's favorite children?" Crim countered softly.

"Is that really your concern? It's better than hunting _you_, isn't it?" He scowled. "I have my reasons. Leave it at that."

"There has been a great injustice done upon this city," Crimson said, finally answering his question. "I wish to put right what once went wrong...

"You fight well but you risk your life."

"Do I really risk my life? I'm still alive...and intend to stay that way."

"There's a big difference between a cyberdroid and a combat model. You did well against a waitress, but it didn't have what it needed to fight back and they're not all that easy."

"Maybe not...but that's what makes it interesting."

Crimson laughed. "Try it without the weapons."

"Try it without yours...?"

"Fair enough!" Crimson seemed excited. "Meet me in the park at eight. We'll see then."

A card imprinted with a feather landed at the hunter's feet, doubtless containing directions to the park.

"Why?"

"Why not? You kill Boomers that have gone rogue, I kill the cancer that is Genom. We may not see it, but we're on the same side."

"And the purpose of this meeting?"

"As you said, we will fight without weapons. This park has been known to house Boomeroids who rape young women. I've seen two of them, and under the law they're fair game."

"So no weapons. Just me and you? Or all of us here?"

"Yes, hand-to-hand, just the two of us. The others will make certain it stays a fair fight..."

"How many Boomeroids?"

"At least two, up to four if the reports are right."

"Well. Why wait? I'm ready now."

"You accept?"

"If we go now."

"If we go now, we will have no way of making sure that there is no interference."

"You have these other two in their armor. That should be enough."

"They have to fly back to their nests. Tomorrow night. Eight."

"There _should_ be nothing to worry about. Now is as good a time as any.

Crimson shook his head, and Shaine spoke up: "If you _do_ join up...you're going to have to learn how to listen."

"There is a time and a place. Plus you have those twelve Boomers to attend to...and I also have my duties. Tomorrow at eight."

"Well, then...those four will help take care of the number..."

"Cut out a tumor and the cancer may grow back. Repair the genes that cause the cancer, and you destroy it altogether."

The man began to walk away again. "Be there at eight. If you're not around by the time I get there, I start without you."

"Don't worry. You won't be so lucky."

As the Ravens cloaked and left, he walked over to a false laying near the dumpster and retrieved the sniper rifle inside. "One more appointment..." he muttered.

///

The next night, James Michael Harris was sure to arrive early. He found a tall tree and climbed up into it, then watched the people walk by. There was a large group of girls, then a Hispanic woman with red and white hair...

It was nearly eight. Four men in trenchcoats, heavily cybered from the look of it, drifted by the far edge of the park. A man wearing a cast on one leg walked toward them. He was dark-skinned, and pretty well built.

The four men tore off their coats and charged the fifth. Harris dropped out of the tree and started running toward them.

///

"...report of four Boomeroids attacking a man in the park..."

Mitch Wolfstone's head came up. He scrambled to get his coat and lock the lab up.

Time to go Raven-hunting.

///

Crimson seemed to be keeping the first pair of Boomeroids down. As Wolfstone entered the park, Harris was watching the third one, who was swinging a chain over his head. Harris studied the movements of the chain carefully, searching for an opening, then moved in to a side kick toward the man's chest. 

Harris stepped in quickly, punching it in the chest. It didn't seem to have much of effect...felt like he'd hit something hard, almost metal. Harris brought his fist back, wincing, as the Boomeroid tried to sweep him. Harris hopped out of the way, but the Boomeroid hit his foot and set him off balance.

The third Boomeroid staggered, and Harris followed up with a punch at his face. The Boomeroid's nose gushed a black fluid. The fourth one tried to grab him from behind. Harris pivoted, swinging his left foot at the Boomeroid. 

Mitch pulled out his service revolver, almost out of instinct. He knew it wouldn't make any difference against a Boomeroid. But perhaps the microwave jammer...

Meanwhile, Crimson didn't seem to be faring much better. The first pair of Boomeroids had knocked him to the ground, but he managed to flip one on top of the other. He got up, but one hit his kneecap. Leaping forward, he rolled away from them.

The third Boomeroid, the first one to attack Harris, opened its jaws and bellowed out a huge laugh as Harris stepped back to see both of his opponents at once.

"This is getting us nowhere. You can't kill them without some kind of weapon..."

The Boomeroid's mouth glowed bright. Harris felt himself being pushed to the ground as a beam of light shot past his head. He pulled out his Desert Eagle, not wasting any more time.

"All right, time to end this. Need a weapon?"

"No, I've got mine." Crimson pulled two Desert Eagles from his belt.

Both started firing, and dropped two of the Boomeroids right away. Harris emptied the last few shots in the chamber at his second opponent's chest as well.

The Boomeroid staggered, and spat out the bullets. "Going to eat your brains!" It charged.

Having emptied the DE, Harris dropped it quickly and reached for the laser sword on his hip. It flared to life and prepared to defend against the Boomeroid.

Mitch shot down Crimson's second Boomeroid, leaving a smoking heap of flesh and synthflesh standing at the Raven's feet.

Harris's Boomeroid was only a foot away, and didn't seem to be slowing down. He stepped aside at the last moment, holding the sword tight so that the Boomeroid would impale itself. Wolfstone fired again, and the Boomeroid collapsed.

///

Wolfstone walked up to the bodies, a stunned expression on his face.

"Greetings!"

His head snapped up at Crimson's words. "I want answers - now!"

A figure stepped out of the bushes, aiming a Miyako at Wolfstone's chest. "I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you," Shaine Kohl said.

"Are you human?" Wolfstone asked.

"These Boomeroids are wanted for murder in six states. Congratulations, Officer. You're a hero."

Wolfstone started, then felt the barrel of the Miyako at his back. "No sudden moves, ADP. Drop the weapons."

He reluctantly set down the gun and the jammer. "Who are you?"

Harris stared at the three, then put his guns back in their holsters and went to pick up the emptied Desert Eagle.

"I know you don't like Boomers..."

"You know my partner already," Crimson said.

"Are you Genom?"

"Hell, no!" Shaine gasped. She seemed geniunely offended.

"Now...may I ask what you are doing here, Officer? It's a bit far from the lab..."

"I got a hot tip."

"Ah, and what was that weapon you fired?"

"Are you the Ravens?"

Having been forgotten, Harris decided that it was time to leave.

"Ah ah aaaah, Mr. Smith...you can't go just yet."

"Yeah, the party's just getting started!" Shaine smiled.

"Uh huh...and how do you gentlemen feel about jail time?"

Harris stopped. "I have no reason to be here. I'm legal."

"I want some answers!" Wolfstone demanded.

"Funny, man..." Shaine dug in a bit harder with the barrel of her gun. "You didn't want to give any before. Why should _we _give any now?"

"Infringing on a U.S. Marshall's case...killing the perps...I believe that's ten to twenty. I'm sorry, Officer, Mr. Smith... You're going to have to come with me."

Shaine grabbed Wolfstone's arm. It was a laughable gesture considering the ten inch difference in their height, but the ADP officer wasn't going to fight her while she had the Miyako on him.

Crim pulled out his cell phone. "Yes, yes, we lost them...seems an ADP got trigger happy..."

"Excuse me." Harris pulled some papers out of his coat. "These will verify everything."

"Yes, they're toasted. Pickup in ten." Crimson closed the phone.

Soon a large van pulled up. "Inside, ADP."

"Just be careful with the jammer!" Wolfstone begged. He stepped inside, then crossed his arms and sat down.

Shaine sat down across from him and patted the seat next to her. "C'mere, Mr. Jones."

Harris sighed, put the papers aside, and took a seat next to her.

The van had heavily tinted windows, and the driver was behind mirrored glass. The van began moving.

"What's your name?" Crimson asked.

"My name is my own. Call me Jones for now."

Harris looked at Shaine, who was holding her gun all too casually. It dangled from her left hand in a fashion that reminded him of the way Rachael held her cigar in the movie _Blade Runner_. "These two really need a lesson in manners, Boss."

"Drop the gun, girl. I show my manners."

"Hah."

"Put it away, Shaine. They can try to shoot their way out of here, but they won't get very far."

Shaine reluctantly slipped the Miyako back into her jacket.

"So. Do the two of you mind answering some questions?"

"Ask away," Harris said.

"Your names, first and foremost?"

"You don't need to know my name."

"Okay. You two want to play hardball? Fine.

"You are James Harris, a man with a questionable work background, and you are Mitch Wolfstone, an AD Police labcoat. You were both in the park looking for a myth that most don't even believe in."

Harris pulled a Glock from a holster on his leg, aiming at Crimson. "How do you know all that?"

"Oh, please. I cracked Majestic 13's outer layer when I _was_ thirteen." Shaine rolled her eyes.

"You...Wolfstone, was it? Were given a tip because..." Crimson looked at the gun, seeming bored. "Because James - may I call you Jim? - used to work for the same people as you do. 

"They like to give information to the right people. I happen to be the wrong person." 

Crimson smiled. "You can shoot me now, Jim, but it won't help you."

Harris sighed and put the gun down.

"What do you two truly want out of life?"

"To get rid of these rogue Boomers."

"And how do you plan to do that, Mitch?"

"That's why I joined the ADP."

"A police funded by Genom and crooked officials. Interesting."

Harris pulled out his cigarettes, and lit one. "What I want out of life is no concern. What I'm doing now is all that matters."

"Ah. Living on the edge, Jim? What happens when your bosses forget how useful you are?"

He flicked the ash at Crimson's feet. "I find another boss. Get to the point.

"There was a reason you let me live last night. There is a reason I am alive now. Get to that reason, or kill me. Very simple."

"Yes. Both of you are being wasted in your current jobs. You, Mr. Wolfstone, have found a way to fire-cook Boomers. Genom will kill you for that alone." He didn't mention Harris's black box from the previous night. "And Jim...we may truly be here to die. Majestic 13 isn't happy with your work as of late.

"I am offering you both a new line of work, one that will put your skills to their fullest test."

Harris dropped the cigarette on the floor and stepped on it. "How much?"

"Eighty thousand a year to start with, plus bonuses."

"And the IRS doesn't touch a penny," Shaine added.

"Eighty thousand a year is reasonable. What else?"

Crimson grinned. "I'm offering you a job, Mr. Harris. What more would you like? Our health and dental plan is top-notch."

"Alternative medicine coverage...401K..."

Harris took out his sword. "It's hard getting this worked on."

"Yes, let me guess: too much weight, not enough power?"

"Yes."

"I'm sure we can find a labcoat to help you with it. But there are a few rules, of course." He began to repeat the rules as he had to Shaine less than a week ago.

"What is this all about?"

"It's about destroying Genom, Mr. Wolfstone," Shaine snapped.

"I never liked that company. I've lost good friends to rogue Boomers."

"I lost my family because of them."

"The fourth rule..." Harris said.

"What about number four, Jim?"

"It limits me...what happens if I get a better offer?"

"There is no better offer, Jim. Genom can't match us. M-13 would like to, but they find it easier to kill."

"What about my current contract? I want to be compensated."

"In what form? Other than your sword, of course."

"The sword, yes...and to know why the hell I've been offered this chance."

"You're tough - damned tough - but you need extra training."

"It'd be a pity to let you go to waste," Shaine sighed, gazing longingly at Harris.

"You have also been recommended by an old friend, one who would like to see you live."

"One last thing. You say no seceding... Well, I'll be blunt. I want a guarantee that if it's justified and I have need, I can leave."

"You can leave, Jim."

"Without being killed."

"Jim, in your line of work, I don't have to worry about you."

"And why is that?"

"M-13 wants you to go on a suicide mission. I know; I had my people do some checking."

"I guess I'm in, then."

"Do you want to see your orders? Or may I just repeat them to you?"

"I don't care. Just tell me."

Crimson took out a plain white envelope and removed a piece of paper from it. "Find and kill the man known as Crimson," he read.

"So you were my next target."

"I was your last target. You see, I have some help..." The van had stopped, and the door opened. Outside were five Ravens with weapons pointed at the van.

"I see."

"We don't take kindly to folks shooting at the Boss..."

"Ah, the welcoming wagon!" Wolfstone said.

"Fortunate I didn't have the orders earlier..."

"As you can see, you may have gotten me, but you wouldn't have gotten past them.

"Welcome to the Raven's Nest."


	3. The Search

The Search

The Search  
_By Mitch, Shaine, and Shatterclaw. Individual rating: PG._

_In Tokyo._

There were faster jets, but the Raven's Wing was still his favorite means of air travel. He hardly regretted the delay as he looked around the sitting area of the lush apartment. It was a business meeting, but Crimson could have sworn that Sylia was trying to impress him again. The woman had no shame, though she hid it all too well.

Her butler brought in some tea and cake, saying that Sylia would be with him shortly. Crimson just nodded and stared out the window. He liked Henderson, really, but he didn't want to get too comfortable just then.

"Sorry I'm late." He turned to see her...she was wearing a low-cut dress with a tuxedo-style jacket. There was an exotic beauty to her slender frame, but he forced himself to remember that she was just as dangerous as any Boomer he'd ever faced.

"It's all right. The view is wonderful from here."

"I'm glad you like it." She smiled. "Won't you have some tea?" Her voice was all too pleasant.

"No, thank you. I'm here for business only."

"Really, now, is that how you treat all of your hosts?" She was up to something...he had known her just long enough to know it. That smile, the sweetness - in fact, she could be as sweet as any other woman, but she could also be very...

With anyone else there might be a million words that fit, but with her...there was never the right word. Crimson sat down; tempting her anger was not a good idea. Not that she would try anything, but she was better ally than enemy.

"So what is Genom doing _this_ time, that would call us to join forces?" 

She went still, her body seemed to change somehow. She slowly lowered her cup and stood. "It's not about Genom this time, at least not on the surface. A week ago, a joint force of American military and others were testing a new type of battle suit. Something happened, and the suit and pilot were lost. There are exorbitant rewards for recovering him, both from the joint militaries and from the family."

"This suit...was it your technology?" He steeled himself for an unpleasant response. She was known to be very territorial about her father and his works, one of which was the essential nature of all hardsuits...

"No. But it's too close, too much like our suits to even begin to ask how they might have gotten it." She was now looking out the window, day giving way to night, and the city lighting up one building at a time.

"Where were they testing this suit?"

"Antarctica."

"You've got to be kidding me. With everything going on down there...you want me to send my people into a war zone for a suit that may not even be one of yours?"

"It bears a similar function to your own suits. I could ask you about _that_..."

"What do you mean, similar function?"

"Cloaking, in one form or another." She turned to look him dead in the eye. 

_Not possible. She can't even try to accuse me of selling off part of a Ravens suit..._

"Not possible. There is no way that it could have come from us; I take great measures to be sure of that - and don't even try to tell me one got out alive and sold it. Alex is dead, his Boomer doubles have been gone for years. Harpy had his own cloaking tech, which we found came from the same man, but that's been taken care of."

"You misunderstand. I know how secretive you are about the hardsuits, even your own privately developed weapons, but no matter where they came from we need to send someone."

"And the younger groups, you don't trust." _She's playing me. There's more to this than she's letting on...and I don't even know how _much_ more._

"Why me?"

"As you know, yours is the largest group to date. Ten members, with support staff, and most of you are believed dead, have no recorded identity, or both."

"So we're expendable to the nth degree. What do you want, Sylia? The truth, if it's not too much to ask for..."

"Genom - and every other major power in the world - wants that suit." The fire in her eye showed how much she wanted it taken care of...which lead Crimson to wonder what else had happened to set her off on this crusade.

"So they want the suit, and it's lost in the ice--"

"No," she cut him off. "It's not _lost_. It's hiding. The reports I have, have the death toll at over a hundred. Every time they come close it lets loose an amazing amount of firepower. More than any hardsuit I've seen."

"A Boomer hybrid? A Boomer in a suit?" The idea frightened Crimson. _Could we even stop such a thing?_

"No one knows. The files on the hardsuit were sealed and every favor I've ever earned could not get me any closer than this." She handed him a surprisingly thin file.

It was from the U.S. Marines, on one Lieutenant Amster, Robert J. The only information given was his name, rank, serial number, and last posting. "All that work, and this is all you were able to get?" He cracked a smile, and she gave him a look that could have frozen hell or convinced Carter and Erik to play nice.

"That's not all, but it's the best I can give you."

"Ah...and you want me to trade _what_ for the rest?"

"It's not like that at all. While I do want you to openly share some of your 'toys' I will not force the issue. I _will_, however, ask a finder's fee. There's more than enough being offered for it to go around."

"It's not about the money. My people will be in grave danger. This mission is one that will draw attention, possibly expose us...but I can see no other way. We'll take it, and we'll make sure that if the suit is 'Stingray' that it is put down. Do you want it back if there is anything left?"

"Yes, if it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all." He began to walk toward the elevator, then called back over his shoulder, "Just have a hell of a good cover story ready."

Hopefully the team would be able to back up that boast.

///

It was less than seven hours after Mitch's recruitment into the Steel Ravens, and his head was still spinning. Crimson left abruptly after they arrived at the Nest, taking Hugo with him, and all of the others had gotten bizarre chores to complete during his absence. For James it was to get Majestic 13's file on Lieutenant Robert J. Amster. For Shaine it was to obtain a current map of Antarctica, including troop movements.

Harris went almost straight to bed after reaching the Nest, but neither Wolfstone nor Kohl could sleep. Both wound up in the commissary, with the latter drowning her sorrows in Jell-o.

"So...what they got to eat here?"

"Dunno. I stopped looking as soon as I found the Jell-o."

Mitch opened the refrigerator. It was immense, and packed with nearly every kind of food one could imagine. "Ahh, fresh salmon! Wonderful!" He pulled it out to reveal a five-layer cake buried deeper in the fridge.

"Is that cake?"

"Oh, do you like chocolate cake, Shaine?"

"Yes, yes!"

"They only have five-layer double chocolate. Are you suuuure?"

"Bring it on!"

Just then, Belladonna walked into the room. "Hey, guys! What's up?" She snagged a piece of the cake as Mitch brought it to the table.

"Getting a little something to eat..."

"Fish? And pass up pizza?"

He laughed. "Is that all you eat...cake and pizza?"

"No," Shaine said. "There's Chinese...and let's not forget Jolly Ranchers and Jell-o..."

Mitch laughed harder.

"So what did Crimson ask you guys to do?"

"Map Antarctica...whatever that's good for."

"He had me pulling files on goverment ops stuff." She did a double take. "Antarctica?!"

"Yeah."

"What the heck? ...Well, that might explain the cold weather suits."

Shaine shivered. "I hope not."

"Oh, anything's possible when he leaves like that...means something big is going down. Anyway, I heard he was coming back around the end of the week, and he wants everything he asked for by then."

"What's this all about, now?" Mitch took a big bite of his salmon.

"If I knew _that_, I wouldn't be asking you guys. He's locked down all of the computers...and Mom's not talking." She got quiet. "In fact, no one's talking..."

Mitch scratched his face and looked at Shaine. "Do you know what's happening in Antarctica?"

"Well, yeah, there's that stupid war going on," Belladonna said.

"Some troop movements; haven't got anything too up-to-date yet. I can't tell if they're unusual or not. I don't usually go staring at the South Pole for fun...rather be looking at Star Trek vids."

"Yeah, all white...who wants to watch that all day?" Bell finished off her cake. "Hey, can I see that map?"

"Sure."

"What would anyone want with that overgrown icebox?" Mitch mused.

"A big supply of ice cream!" Bell giggled. "Or the world's only fresh water...what's left of it...plus oil, minerals...rock..."

"Did you know it gets down to 120 below at night there?"

"At least, if not lower. We'd freeze down there without some sort of special equipment."

"Power lines snap like twigs at 50 below..."

"And Kohls snap like twigs at 20 below." Mitch laughed at that; Shaine started paying more attention to her cake to keep from panicking.

"Oh, man, permanent frostbite..." Bell said.

"The suits wouldn't work at night unless..." Mitch stopped to think.

"I'm not sure about that. If they were running hot they might still work without modifications, but we've never tried it... Do Boomers still work at that temperature?"

"I'm sure they do. Or, at least, Genom makes some that do. Dad got sent up to Alaska a lot for preliminary testing, and they would've sent him to Antarctica if his health had been better."

"Yes, they have internal heaters that work at temperatures below negative 60 to 70 degrees."

"Um, yeah...but the hardsuits..." She picked up a plastic Spork from the table. "This is the outer shell; here it is in the cold..." She snapped the Spork. "The outer shell would crack, and we'd freeze. But cold weather suits are stronger and have heat cloaks."

"Could I see the blueprints for those suits?"

"I don't know. I'd have to ask Mom, and then you'd have to be cleared for it."

"I think I could help you but I'd have to know what I was working on."

"Well..." Belladonna bit her lip. "I might be able to get us in, but it'd probably trip an alarm or two..."

"How strong's the ice on that thing?" Shaine asked, as casually as if she were inquiring about the price of a new cell modem.

"Um...well, let me take you down there and you can see..."

///

"Slow week," Deis mused. "I can't believe that there were only 107 hits..."

"Well, at least we got that stuff from Cypunk, and that 'mama raven' story, though it can't possibly be true, is still a good read..." They walked down the alley, oblivious to the fact that three of the Steel Ravens had watched James Harris kill a Boomer singlehandedly not ten feet away.

"Yeah, but _still!_ If only we could find some hard proof! Like...I don't know...a feather, or--"

Omar grabbed her arm. "Hey, what about a Raven mark in the street?!"

"What? No way! Oh my _gawwwd_..." Deis whipped out her digital camera and started taking pictures.

"Come on!" He tugged at her trenchcoat.

"Don't you want to take more pictures? We've finally got _proof!_"

"Naw, I have a better idea. We'll come back and dig it out, then take it back to..." He looked both ways. "The hideout."

"Revving! That is sooo cool!"

///

Cake in hand, Shaine followed Belladonna and Mitch as the three went down to a lower level of the Nest. Bell cracked the code on a pair of locked doors, then walked over to a computer terminal in the darkened office.

As it booted, Shaine pulled a Hyper-PCMCIA card out of her pocket. The 5GB card held her main set of files, including a copy of SoftIce and everything else she might possibly need for a routine hack.

Belladonna pulled up the new hardsuit designs. "All right..." Shaine slid the card halfway into the drive, knelt in front of the terminal, and set the keyboard on her lap. "Just a matter of whether or not I can copy it... Damn!"

"What?"

"I'm going to have a hard time just covering up the fact that we opened it..."

"Jeeza, Mom put some heavy stuff on this! I'll print it, Mitch, so that you can look this over..."

Mitch nodded.

"Oh my _gawd_, she's not kidding..."

Beads of sweat were forming on Shaine's forehead. "I'm going to need every file on my hypercard just to jigger the boot logs..."

"Gee, I didn't know she had it in her! Hey, wait...I wonder if I still have a back door here..." Shaine passed the keyboard over and Bell began typing in a blur of motion. "I think I got it! I think..."

The lights went on.

///

"Erik, there's something wrong." The Boomer pouted. She'd clearly come there in a hurry; her clothing was not at all suited to the office. A black scoop neck t-shirt, ending perhaps half a hand's width beneath her breasts, exposed far more of her pale skin than was fitting. 

More than Erik particularly wanted Carter staring at.

"Is it that bad."

"I think so." She sat down on the other side of his desk without asking, and dug a hypercard out of her jeans pocket. "Katerin is trying to get into the project databases. She's been damned clever about it too."

"Well, what would you _expect_ from a Boomer modeled after yourself, dear? When I made her, I hoped she could help Evon somehow...I worry about him. But Boomers can't care for others like that...not like _you_, Shaine..."

The Boomer's eyes shimmered, tears just barely held in. _Overemotional. This one is going to need adjustment._

He frowned and took the hypercard with the access logs. "Was there any sort of a message left?"

"Yes, that's how we knew that Katerin was trying to get in."

"What did it say?"

"_Third man on a match dies._"

He dismissed her. As she turned to leave, the outline of a snake devouring its own tail could be seen on the exposed flesh just above the top of her jeans.


	4. Masquerade Games

Masquerade Games

Masquerade Games  
_By Mitch, Shaine, and Shatterclaw. Individual rating: PG-13._

Jinks was furious. "What are you doing in my lab?"

Mitch and Shaine fell silent.

"Uh..um..hi, Mommy... We were just trying to figure out what we could do for these new suits?"

"Ah huh...and for that you needed to break a code one lockout? Which, I might add, ought to get the whole lot of you thrown out...but, seeing as you've come _this_ far you might as well tell me exactly what you were looking for?"

Bell bit her lip. "Well, see, Mitch here thought he might be able to come up with some improvements for the cold-weather gear."

Shaine took advantage of the situation to quietly pop the hypercard out of the terminal and slip it back into her pocket.

"I'm a hardware expert. I think I could be of some use."

"Yes, I know...but this gives you the right to break into my office?" Jinks sighed. "But as long as you're all here..."

She stepped over to a tube standing against the wall and opened it. Inside was a bulky, all-white hardsuit. "This is a cold weather hardsuit. We're working out the technical details right now. It can take up to 100 degrees below; if we can get it down to 220 below we should be safe."

"May I ask what you are using for protection against the temperatures?"

"It is an isoliner core material with a heat element built in."

"Hmmmm..."

"We need it to be stronger, without making it hotter, so that we can still use our cloaks without showing up on infrared. This one is a type one hardsuit with a heater and an extra layer of insulation, as well as heavy innerwear to keep the pilot warm."

"What about self-contained life support?"

"Yes, with a backup. The problem is that it is pro-rated for temperatures around 100 degrees."

"Have you done any testing yet?"

"Only drone testing in a nitro chamber. The outer shell held up, but the inner suit was...less than reliable. We believe that the suit will hold up at lower temperatures, but not the pilot."

"Do you have a test pilot?"

"No. Crimson wanted to do it, but with the condition he's in... He should be at home, in bed, not running around! At any rate, the suit goes to critical in less than five minutes and will overheat at anything above 26 degrees. Test results seem to point to power core meltdown, followed by total system degradation and then weapons detonations."

"Interesting...so it's a homeostasis problem."

"Yes, that's at least part of it. I had thought of perhaps a dual-suit system, with an inner suit for life support and a heavier outersuit to act as a weapons platform."

"Have you heard of ZyGel? It's basically a gellied antifreeze...just what we need here..."

"Yes, but never used it. Too hard to find. Only NASA, USSD, and SPDC would have any supplies of it. Do you think you could get your hands on some?"

"Me? No. But I know someone who might. He's a little shady, but we can trust him."

Shaine smiled. "Don't we all know someone like that..."

"Yes, but most of the time they're in the group already...or trying to kill one of us."

"It's a long story, really, so let's just say he owes me a favor." Mitch smiled.

"We'll need a good-sized amount. I can synthesize more here, but it will take some to get the right formula."

"Trust me, he understands. His clients don't like questions, if you know what I mean."

"We'll need two, maybe three pints per suit. See if he has anything in...oh...maybe a fifty gallon size. It may be useful for other purposes."

"Yeah, I think you're right. Fifty gallons. I'll talk to him tomorrow."

"Now, then. What do you think of this idea?"

"I say go for it!" Mitch was obviously quite enthused.

Shaine hesitated. "I don't particularly relish it, but if it hurts Genom I'm in."

"Good. As I was saying, the inner suit will serve as life support and backup, while the larger one will house most of the weapons, backup life support functions, and the cloaking device."

"Cloaking device?"

"Yes, most hardsuits have them - well, ours do anyway. My father designed them. Normally it is housed in the back of the suit and along the trenchcoat, but the trenchcoat would only slow down the heavy suit. It's not very aerodynamic."

"What do you use? Light refraction system?"

"Light refraction with a digital enhancer, fiber-optic RV emitter, digital scanners and enhanced on-the-go sampling."

"I'd love to see the specs on that!"

"I'm sorry," Jinks replied, "But that's not possible." Mitch smiled slightly and sighed.

"You must understand..." Her phone rang.

"Yes...yes...I accept... Hello? 

"Yes. I see, yes...we have an idea-- 

"How soon? _How _much?

"Yes, I understand...yes, yes _sir_..." She hung up. "It seems that Crimson is having a wonderful time in Tokyo... He's brought us all a new assignment."

"So now I have two bosses?" Mitch smiled.

"Three: me."

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Mitch, do you have any time off from the ADP? And Shaine, do you have any free time?"

"Nothing but," Shaine said ruefully.

"I've got a two week vacation coming, but I don't know how Captain Boudreaux is going to be about it."

"Good. Shaine, we'll need to make your uncle think you're going on a trip."

"All right," she replied slowly.

"I can't go into detail right now - Crimson wants to brief you himself when he comes back - but we need to have this done, and I need to ask at least three weeks from everyone. Also, Shaine, I need you to develop a tracking program for the suits."

"Three weeks? The Captain is _not_ going to be happy!"

"We'll handle it. Now get some sleep; we'll meet with the others tomorrow."

///

The door opened and Erik's head snapped around reflexively. _Who--_

"Carter. What is it now?" Bad enough, having to work on a Sunday evening, even worse when he'd been in the office all day Saturday...but a visit from _her?_

"Have you made any headway on the Ravens?"

"No." The sullen one-word answer hung in the air for several seconds before he continued. "I have absolutely no resources to work with...and yet you expect results?"

"Really? I would have thought that with a whole company of Dobermans...oh, that's right, they're gone aren't they."

Erik once again refused to speak.

"Oh, come on! You have the full force of Genom behind you!"

"Needle in a haystack, Carter...it's not a matter of force. And considering the assaults that our servers have faced..."

"True. Informants? Spies?"

"We did have that one Raven agent I caught...but he died too quickly and knew too little anyway. Their inner circle is much too loyal to be bought... I did have plans for Shaine, but those fell through..."

"Really? Whatever happened to that dear girl?" She smiled, with the same look in her eyes as the one a cat gives a bird.

"She didn't take well to that concoction you had me slip to her. And I wouldn't be surprised if she blamed me for the mugging as well."

Carter laughed out loud. "Oh, yes...that. Well, I suppose it was a trifle rude of me."

"That whole mess could have been prevented if you had listened to me. She had no reason to hold back information, as I told you..."

"Does she? She _was_ forcibly removed from our family..."

"She was _forcibly removed_ because she didn't play by the rules. You and I both know how little those rules mean."

"There was no love lost between her and Genom, and there seems to be no love lost between her and you," she mused. "No. Enlighten me...how little _do_ the rules mean? To you, that is."

"I think you know that I was never supposed to come back from Berlin. I was to be used and thrown away..but I pulled it off, better than anyone could have expected, and even survived. I didn't do that by following my orders to the letter." He smiled slowly. "Oh, but that's before your time...isn't it?"

Carter grinned back. "You wound me."

Leaning over his desk, Erik looked into her eyes, his tone nearly like that of a lover. "The Daimler takeover was far more hostile than you can imagine."

"Oh, I know. Quincy tutored me on it. A basic takeover relay, first-year material."

"A suitable case study, yes...but did he ever explain how exactly I managed to maintain my rank while my colleagues...ah...did not?"

"No. Do tell!"

He leaned back a bit again. "I think I'll leave that as an exercise for the student." A tiny smile.

"Oh, so now _you're_ my teacher."

_Getting petulant...yes, I'm in control now. Too bad she's Quincy's pet; it would be painfully simple to oust her if she weren't..._

"No." Another dramatic pause. "There's no reward in taking on a student who refuses to learn."

Carter leaned forward, hands on the desk. "But I do want to learn..." she pleaded, her voice low and seductive.

"Yet you refuse to take every lesson you can. Evon, for example..." He gestured toward the one-way window overlooking one of his labs. Evon was standing there, lecturing, as two young interns peered intently at the half-assembled body of an ADP Boomer. "You can't have any idea how useful a tutor he is. A completely open book, and written so plainly...a beginner's text, but suitable for brushing up on the basics."

"True...but one day, that book may just bite back."

"If using brute terror, perhaps. But the correct solution renders him harmless.

"But, then, you wouldn't understand that..."

She laughed again.

"Mixed metaphors and fear tactics," Erik murmured. "Rosenkreutz must be slipping in his old age..."

"_Blasphemy!_"

_Steady, now...she's almost ready..._ "And you don't ever question your faith?"

"Not when it comes to _him!_"

"Then you're blind," he snapped.

"Am I?"

"We're on the verge of a new Protestant Reformation. Things are changing and we - like the Catholic Church - are not changing with them.

"If we don't change, we will be shattered. Crushed. We can't just grab what we have left and try to rebuild...our work is business, not God, and we have a timetable considerably nearer than the end of the world."

"We as in who?"

"Are you that dense? It's not just Genom that's in danger. It's the entire way of life that Genom has created. We _are_ the company of Boomer technology and if we go down, so do Boomers. What then?"

She sat down, finally. "What if the Boomers do go down?"

"It's back to the twentieth century," he spat.

"Do you know, most of our factories run themselves?"

"You shouldn't have to ask."

"No, I shouldn't. _This_ is the key...do you think that this world is meant to live without Genom?"

"If you truly believe that Boomers could continue without us - without _our immediate and physical presence_, not merely our legacy - what then? Fragmentation? Turf wars between would-be successors? I'd rather believe that we'll be catapulted back to the Industrial Revolution!"

"Quincy has everything playing to his tune."

"Do you hear your melody there? I don't.

"I don't hear mine either."

"Oh, I do hear mine...it just has to sound exactly like his in order to succeed."

Erik laughed. "I'll leave you your strained pitch, then. But as for myself, I'd rather change the tune. Now, if you don't have anything more...? My office does not run itself."

"I do have one more thing."

"Oh?"

"Yes...a report that a person in this very company has been misusing our production system..." She stopped a moment, then said, "To make personalized Boomers."

"I see."

"They're some of the most wonderfully programmed models I've ever seen...possibly more emotionally intricate than Sexaroids! They..._perform_...so well that I even had one made for myself."

Erik raised an eyebrow, still playing innocent. "What exactly is this new Boomer of yours?"

She pulled out a hypercard copy of a Boomer program disk. Across the label, in Erik's own handwriting, was scrawled _Shaine_.

"Oh. My."

"Yes..." Carter raised her voice. "Come on in, dear..."

The Shaine Boomer was dressed in a skewed, perverse version of one of the business suits he'd bought for the real Shaine. It was mostly leather, with a bare satin scrap of a blouse being the only part of it that wasn't black. She wore fishnet stockings and spike heels...

God help him, she even had a riding crop in one hand.

"I will have to find and thank this employee..."

"I see you haven't hesitated to add your own personalized touches," Erik finally managed to choke out.

"Why, no, this is the way I found her."

"Really."

"But you must agree it is a _wonderful _idea." She rose to leave. "Oh, and Erik? Next time you make one of these, be sure you pay for it?"

"Of course."

Erik could see Carter give the Boomer a little squeeze as they walked out.

///

At six that night, Jinks walked into the meeting room. Everyone else on the team had arrived already, except of course Crimson and Hugo. She had a sheaf of papers under one arm, which she began to pass out. "Okay, I need everyone to fill these out. Make sure they have the right information.

"Crimson is coming back on Monday - that's tomorrow. He met with the founder of the Knight Sabers, and she has asked a favor of us. Tonight we need to vote on whether to accept or deny that favor. If we accept it, your paperwork will have to be up to date and filled in..."

"Um...Mom..."

"What is it?"

"We've got a rogue in the lower levels of downtown. Looks like it's tearing up the place...ADP is off dealing with some other problem..."

"What?" Mitch seemed offended.

"Yeah, see?" She passed him her laptop, which was displaying ADP radio communications as a text box on its screen. "Been four - no, five - fights with this same Boomer. I think they're getting the runaround..."

"Lark, Shaine, Mitch, and Bell, you're with me," Jinks said.

_Lark? That's a new code name... _Vicki soon followed them, so it was not hard to tell who it was.

Once they reached the suits, Mitch began to look nervous. "Excuse me...I'm new to this..." Bell helped him in as the others put on their own suits. "Thank you!"

"Hey, no problem labcoat! Just don't make me save you!"

Being lifted off into the night sky was the most incredible rush Mitch had ever felt, and he didn't hesitate to tell them. His enthusiastic whoops forced Shaine to suppress a laugh...after all, she didn't want to have to explain why she was so jaded after less than two weeks on the team.

"Okay, we're going to land and jump back up," Belladonna told him. "Careful on the landing...you want to push off again just as you hit the ground."

"Bell, team up with Mitch...Lark with Freefall..."

Just then they hit their jump jets. After a near miss, Mitch easily got the hang of it. "This is almost fun?"

"Almost? Are you _cracked_? This _is_ fun!" Belladonna raced ahead of him.

Mitch smiled. "I fought K-11 five years ago."

"Really? In one or against one?"

"No, that's riot control."

"Riot control? Is that a desk-pusher job?"

"Bell, I've been on the force - ADP _and_ regular police - for fifteen years now. It's not all behind a desk."

Jinks cut the conversation off: "Freefall, are you picking it up anywhere?"

"I've got something big...beneath the street. It's moving."

"How big?"

"Twenty feet wide...maybe about the same height... It's heading for us!"

"Arm weapons, everyone, and land on that roof."

"All right, let's see what this puppy can do!" Mitch's smile turned to a snarl.

"Mitch, take point. Lark, Bell, get ready to strike hard." Jinks fired a grenade from her suit, which burned through a nearby manhole cover. The ground near the manhole rumbled, and concrete flew up into the air. The ground parted...

Mitch took aim and fired before he even saw what it was. The others gasped at the sight of the huge, mismatched Boomer.

"What is that?" he asked belatedly. It looked like it had been crafted from a design by Frankenstein, with parts from Sexaroids, Dobermans, practically any type of Boomer one could imagine, fused into one gigantic mass.

"You don't want to know," Jinks told him.

Mitch fired his railgun again, with little effect.

"Oh my gawwwwd!" Belladonna gasped. "That Boomer's from Mickey D's!

"Well, at least part of it..."

"Freefall, Lark, cover fire. Bell and Mitch, go for the core."

"The word supersize will never have the same meaning for you again, huh."

"Uh-huh, Shaine! If that things asks whether we want fries with that, I'm outta here!"

Mitch let fly a grenade and growled as Jinks pulled out her rifle and began to fire at the beast's three heads. "The core is in the central head. Concentrate your firepower there."

Shaine dodged the far left head, which was using an axle as a mace. She dodged as it swung at her and brandished her sword at it. The creature backed away from her momentarily.

Mitch dove at the beast, twin laser swords at the ready, and slashed at the central head. The swords sliced through its massive neck, leaving the head dangling atop the body. A large, pumping mass could be seen inside the neck. He drove one sword through it. "Die, beast!"

The Frankenstein Boomer fell apart into so much junk. Mitch stood there staring at it, and breathing heavily.

"Freefall, get the part numbers from it. We need to find out where it came from. Mitch, good job."

"Yeah, just like the guy with the claws! What's his name again?"

"Thanks!" Mitch said, with a growl in his voice.

"What, Wolverine or Sabertooth or something?" Lark asked.

"What? Bell?" Mitch, not exactly literate in the world of comic books, was puzzled.

"The cute one! You know...the guy with claws...Wolf-something-or-other... From those comic books! Something X?"

"Not X-Files, I can tell you that!"

"Wolverine, yeah, that's it... Ooooh, good one, Shaine! We can call him Mulder!"

"_NO!_" The ouroborous tattoo seemed to burn on her skin at the very suggestion of such a thing. How could she explain to Belladonna how just inherently..._wrong_...that name was for him?

"C'moooon, he'd make a great Mulder..."

"If anyone's Mulder, it's that Harris...about as cheerful as a snake bite, that one..." She scowled.

"Why not just call him Wolverine?" Lark asked.

Mitch smiled. "What?"

Jinks spoke up: "Ladies and gentlemen, we'll be having company soon."

"Right," Shaine said. "Let's fly."

Five black figures rose into the night sky just as the first ADP cruisers arrived.

///

A petite Boomer with curly brown hair and deep green eyes met Erik at the door. "Rough day?"

"Yeah," He shrugged out of his coat and handed it to her. "Straight to dinner, I think, then a shower and bed."

"Should I have Martya wait for you?"

He hesitated, exhaling sharply through his teeth. "No. I'm in no mood for it. Besides which, I'm getting tired of her."

"I'll take care of it, then."

"No one new to replace her, just yet. Carter's thrown a fit about...well...You Know Who, and I'd like to avoid any purchases that might seem excessive."

The Boomer pursed her lips. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yeah, once I'm done with everything else..." He laughed. "Why don't _you_ wait for me?"

The two of them laughed together, then. "All right, I will," she replied lightly.

"Thank you, Kathy."

///

The Boomer modeled after Kathy Kohl frowned. "So you're saying there's a third one now... What does Katerin think?"

"Our Shaine, you mean? She doesn't know."

"I can understand keeping _that_ from her...but do you mean you still haven't told her what she is? You're going to break her that way if you're not careful..."

"She thinks the real Shaine is the Boomer. It's got to be the only way to go about it; I told the others and none of _them_--"

"You have to accept that none of them will ever be perfect. It's asking too much..."

"No. I'm so close..."

"I suppose you want to start over again. Or at least tweak this one."

"Her emotions still aren't responding properly. And I'm sure there's something off about her chin..."

"Her chin is fine, Erik." There was a look of desperation - even pity - in Kathy's eyes. "Just...let go. It's all you _can_ do, at this point." She put her arms around him and whispered, "You're running yourself into the ground with this, when the important thing is finding Shaine. You do know that, don't you?'

"Of course."

She kissed him on the cheek and walked away.

///

"Why are you calling me Wolverine?" Mitch demanded.

"Well...you've got the two swords...and you snarl, y'know?" The two young women giggled.

"I don't know," Belladonna said. "He's a little Canadian guy who jumps into battle, and forgets he has help...doesn't sound like anyone _we_ know..."

"Are you insulting Canadians?" Shaine tensed up.

"Me? Never! Why would I want - oh, wait, Mom's calling..." She ran out of the hangar.

"Don't mind her," Lark said. "She gets a little hyper after a fight...comes from sitting around playing video games all day..."

"I can only imagine!" Shaine murmured.

Lark turned to Mitch. "Nice job, Wolvie!"

"Wolvie?"

"Yeah...a short," she gestured with her fingers held not too far apart, "Version of your new codename."

"Yeah, we can't go calling you Mitch when your ADP buddies might be hearing us..."

"All right..." Mitch grinned. "Well, that was fun!"

"Fun? You want fun? Try a few Dobermans next time!"

"Oh, yes, please let Genom send us more Dobies. I wish to die young and without a degree in my chosen profession..." She shook her head, then yawned. "Excuse me...I have to go get some sleep. Got a 6am class tomorrow..."

"So...what about the others?"

"The others? You mean their codenames?"

"Yeah. I know you're Lark..."

"Well, Anni is Belladonna, but we usually just call her Bell or brat...Mom is Jinks 'cause she used to keep blowing up computers when she was young...and as for the rest, you'll just have to ask them. Not my place to tell you...oh, but whatever you do, don't ask about Crimson's name!"

"No problem. So, what about you, Shaine?"

Lark yawned again. "Damn Boomers...why can't they just do this crud on a regular schedule?"

"I'm Freefall...and don't ask me or Bell how I got that..."

"Freefall!" Bell cried out over the comms. "Because she falls freely from the skies..."

"Don't even go there, Bell."

"_Could_ be Dances-with-Dobermans!" She cut the comms.

Jinks came down the tube and into the bay, then took off her helmet. "Shaine, can you go over the data from that Boomer for me sometime tonight?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Good. Here's my readings." She held out a disk from the compartment on the side of her suit's leg. "There might be something here that you didn't pick up."

She then turned to Mitch. "You did well out there, but be a little more careful. All right? I don't want to lose you so soon..."

"I'm always careful!" He smiled.

"Spoken like a young nestling... Well, I'm off to work on the suits. I'll see you later."

///

_All right, then...perhaps a little fun before I start in on the data analysis?_ Shaine had never had much to speak of when it came to self-restraint, and so the laptop was out before she had a chance to think twice.

She'd managed to find a reasonably good brute-force way into the less secure terminals of Erik's taskgroup, and that was where she had planted the sleeper virus. Still lying inactive, it would be undetectable...to anyone else, that was...

Her obvious assault earlier that afternoon had given her ample opportunity to insert the virus in one terminal's access logs, and those logs were surely being spread around as Erik tried to figure out what she was doing. It would take a far better hacker than any in his employ to unearth anything, but she welcomed him to try.

After all, it made it all the easier for her to bring the entire taskgroup down.

She entered that time through a terminal other than the one she'd originally infected. With any luck, the virus would have reached the terminal already. She reinfected it just to be sure.

A light blinked on her alert console. A Genom subroutine was trying to track her.

Her IP address was already forged; she attempted to get inside the subroutine and reboot it...jolt it off of its course. It lost her, at least for the moment.

Transmitting the first access code for the sleeper virus, she was certain to leave another message for Erik: _Three strikes and you're out._ Even Erik, with his complete ignorance of all history not within the past fifty years or at least a century and a half old, could understand _that_ one.

If Evon had been alive, he'd surely have been chuckling over her previous message...but, then, it was best not to think about it.

Another tracking subrouting began trying to lock on to her. She got out quickly, her purpose accomplished.

The screen flashed blue and white. She slid in a boot disk and restarted, just to be safe.

As soon as it had restarted, the computer bypassed the password screen and immediately began to dial up again. Shaine pulled the cell modem, disconnecting it manually. A face looking almost like Carter's, but bald and blue, could be seen briefly...then Shaine shut it down again hurriedly. She wiped it, repartitioned it, and reinstalled everything from a clean backup.

"Damn..."

As Windows began installing, she grabbed her CD player. Pulling on the headphones, she sat down and put her head in her hands. _Lass mich deine Träne reiten/übers Kinn nach Afrika/wieder in den Schoß der Löwin..._

///

Jinks was working on one of the suits as Mitch walked in. "I talked to my friend about the ZyGel. He says ten thousand dollars, two weeks. On the regular black market, the stuff goes for thirty thousand for the same amount."

"The money is no problem...it's the timetable. We really need to get our hands on it _now_."

"Let me call him back." Mitch went to the phone. Mick, an importer and fence, had been saved from a mob hit by Mitch, two years earlier. _He certainly owes me enough..._

"Hey, Spike, it's Mitch! Is Mick there?" 

The vidphone quickly switched hands. "Mitch, hey! You still want that ZyGel?"

"Yeah! Just one problem...we need it ASAP. Can't wait the two weeks."

"All right, but it's not going to be cheap."

"Tell him we'll pay twice as much." Jinks called.

"And I need to know where and when."

"The old ruins of the Brickyard mall. Where Ward's used to be. That should give us enough cover..."

"Twenty thousand, Mick. You owe me."

"Awwww, Mitch! You're my friend! Of course I'm good for it! How about tonight? Midnight?"

"Yeah, at the old ruins of the Brickyard."

"Sure thing, buddy. See you later, man..."

"He'll do it. Old Brickyard, midnight."

"Got it...and I know just the truck we'll take." She hit a button on the intercomm. "Anni, send...Mitch, what was his name again?"

"Mick Meyer, twenty-two-twenty South Street."

"You got that, Anni? Send him twenty thousand, for the Zygel, and make sure it's a secure account."

" 'Kay, Mom."

"So how are we going to do this?"

"I've got a new truck to test out...I think we'll take that."

"Mick's people will drop at twelve and be out of there, fast. They aren't generally the type to wait around and be sociable."

"All right, but we should still go in cloaked. Never know what the stars might see..."

"Good idea. There's probably street people out by that area...don't want any of them to see us."

At ten, Mitch met Jinks, Bell, and Shaine next to a huge, rectangular form covered by a tarp. All four wore hardsuits.

"I would like to introduce the next wave in Ravens transports..." Jinks pulled a rope, and the tarp fell. Underneath was a tractor-trailer, painted ebony-black with no trim or color to it. It almost didn't reflect light at all. There were four huge jetfans on the roof of the trailer, and treadlike tires.

"It will be armed with missiles, lasers, and a 175mm cannon. It also has four hydraulic booms to carry motoslaves, and can sleep six. It is Arctic safe, and has a hover mode...

"The Ravens now have an RV!"

"And it's got a _killer_ sound system..."

"Sweet." Shaine smiled. "Any chance of playing some Rammstein on that thing?"

"Rom-what?"

"Never mind," she sighed.

"Well, then, if there are no questions...?"

"No."

"Hop in, and let's go for a test spin."

"I call shotgun!" Bell cried.

Shaine rolled her eyes and followed Mitch into the "RV."

///

The drive to the ruined mall took only a few minutes. All that was left of the site was a bombed-out crater around which there were a few shells of former walls. Jinks pulled the truck over to the side behind a wall. 

The computer terminal inside was linked to a satellite, scanner, and sensor package; the Ravens could see around the truck easily without having to post sentries.

"We'll have to decloak the truck to send anyone in or out. So if you want to go, go together and go now. And be sure to keep your personal cloaks on."

Shaine rose immediately, too restless to stay inside. "You coming, Mitch?"

Once outside of the truck, the only sound was that of the ground crunching beneath their boots. Faint footprints could be seen, but there was no other visible sign of their presence. The van quickly shimmered away into nothing.

"I see a truck coming from the southwest," Jinks said. The pair outside could easily see it a moment later.

The truck stopped. A tarp covering the back flopped open, and a large man stood.

"Spike," Mitch said, smiling.

"Be careful," Jinks warned. "I'm reading a few hand-weapons; the ZyGel is said to be explosive, under the right conditions..."

"Don't worry. They'll be out of here as fast as they can."

Spike took a barrel from the back of the pickup and tossed it over the side. Another soon followed. The pickup sped away.

As it left, an ADP cruiser turned on its lights and sped off in pursuit.

"Not good..." Mitch said.

"Aw, man, Wolverine...looks like your buddies are gonna give us a hard time!" Shaine sprinted over to the barrels and picked one up. Mitch quickly followed. They placed the barrels in the cargo hold, secured them, and buckled themselves in. Jinks brought the huge truck back to life and the two Ravens seated in the back could feel it accelerate.

"Want to do anything for your friends, Mitch?"

"No. They're keeping the ADP busy, and won't be in any danger since we have all of the evidence right here."

"So be it. I'm heading back to the base, then."

"Hey, can we take this thing through the drive-thru at Mickey D's? I know someone who would just _die_ to see us..."

There was a smacking sound and the hiss of static over the comms. Belladonna fell silent...for a moment.

"Ow, owwy, owwwwww... Come on, it was just a _joke..._"


	5. Pieces of You, pt. 1

Pieces of You

Pieces of You, Part 1  
_By Harris, Mitch, Shaine, and Shatterclaw. Individual rating: PG._

"Harris," Shaine smiled. "Thank you for joining us."

"What's all this about?"

"I've finally gotten some information on the Boomer that we took down last night, and it looks like I'm going to need some backup."

She called up an image of the Frankenboomer. "Apparently all of the fused parts of the Boomer came from the same retailer. Which is, needless to say, very...suspicious. It's unknown whether Genom had an active part in this, but I would assume it did. The question is whether we go in by the front door and ask questions first, or try to gather information more covertly. The place I tracked them to appears to be a perfectly legitimate shop, with all its licenses in order, and no previous incidents attributed to it.

"It might be possible to extort information out of the owner...the fact that unlicensed Dobermans and even a 33-S were traced back to him would be bad for business." She smiled hungrily.

Harris shook his head. "Then why not take the place out?"

"Then we'll have no idea how or why this was done, will we?"

"If you go in with guns blazing, no..."

"If Genom - or anyone - has a way of controlling which Boomers go rogue, we need to find out," she said firmly. "That's the real issue here."

"Then send someone in. No attack, just reconnaissance..."

"All right. Mitch, do you agree?"

"Yeah."

"Then get your hardsuits and meet me by the tubes."

///

It took a half hour to get across the city, even in suits. The store was in the pricier end of town, not too far from Erik's house. The knowledge brought up a few minor twinges of pain as Shaine stared at the high-end Boomers in the front window, their angelic faces devoid of emotion, which were not all that much different from or less advanced than the ones _he_ probably had. 

At the same time, Jim waited a few paces behind, wondering if he'd really chosen their course of action well. Something about the place, not to mention the way it seemed to affect her, just didn't settle right with him. Mitch, standing beside him, seemed to be raring to go and completely oblivious to the air of forboding that had fallen over the others.

Jim stayed silent. He was there to do a job, and he would do it.

"Right. This is the place. From what I can tell, there's a spare storeroom in the back with the less reputable goods. That is our main target, but I want to look at everything." She picked the lock easily. "Get serial numbers off of as many as you can; they may be falsifying their records."

The doors slid open and she walked in, closely followed by Jim and Mitch. "Wolverine, check out the showroom first. Harris, stay with me." _Damn, he needs a codename..._

_Mulder?_

_Snakebite? Heh._

_Oh, be good, girl...you've got work to do._

Against the walls were complete Boomers, and cases distributed throughout the showroom held partial ones - upgrades. Shaine made her way across the room, not stopping to look at anything, while Jim carefully scanned the room as he passed. At the far end was a thick metal door flanked by two old-model combat Boomers...hopefully disabled. The electronic lock was top-of-the-line Genom work...

"Hah."

An early design of none other than Evon Kohl. Shaine bypassed it without hardly trying, and the doors opened slowly to reveal a large back room.

Inside was a stockpile of what appeared to be almost every design of Boomer ever made. "Looks almost like this guy is a collector..." Workbenches lined the walls, every one occupied by at least one Boomer. There were no humans in the room save for the two Ravens. "Yeah, look at this one," Shaine continued. "You don't put that kind of work into a Boomer unless you really love it."

There was a huge pit in the center of the room. Shaine peered down inside, saw some DVD cases lying on the bottom next to a huge Boomer. She jumped into the pit as Jim studied the Boomer weapons hanging on one wall.

"Jackpot!" They were from _Frankenstein_ and _Bride of Frankenstein_...

_Well, at least it's a whacked-out Boomer fanatic and not Genom_...

Jim followed her into the pit. She held up the cases, one eyebrow raised. He nodded.

"Freefall, I have a Boomer head on a shelf whose eyes follow my hand when I move it, copy."

"Damn! I'll be out there in a minute, Wolverine."

There was a deep rumbling sound, and a large panel began to slide over the open work area of the pit. Shaine quickly leapt out, but Jim was trapped inside.

In the showroom, Mitch crushed the Boomer's-head surveillance camera. An alarm sounded. "Freefall, that's our cue!"

"Cue? Whatinhell are you talking about?" Shaine arrived at the door just in time to see him take off. "What the hell! Get back here Wolverine or _I will have your suit!_" She rushed back into the back room, firing at the panel covering the pit. It didn't even dent the thick metal.

Shaine found the computer console and jacked in.

Mitch walked into the back room. "Where's Harris?"

"Stuck in the pit!"

Mitch glanced around, then saw the rounded metal door. "Oh, man..."

The encryption on the door controls was only an eight letter code; Shaine could easily break it. However, a noise caught her attention before she could start.

The Boomers were beginning to shamble to life, many of them missing parts. Their skin was a purple, bruiselike color and discolored masses of flesh hung from their bodies.

"Oh, shiiiittt..." Shaine abandoned the console and attacked the nearest one with her laser sword. It fell all too easily, and she ran the sword through its core to be certain it was dead. 

Mitch was trying to shoot through the pit door with his rail gun. "You're not going to cut through that. I already tried. And in case you haven't noticed, we have a more immediate problem!"

"Oh, heck!"

There were five in all, including the one that Shaine had already destroyed. Mitch's twin laser swords flared to life and he gutted another. "Time to dance, boys!"

"No fancy nonsense...just take them out _now_ so that we can get back to Harris."

Jim, standing next to the giant Boomer in the pit, eyed it warily. It didn't seem to respond to his presence, but he remained completely still and engaged his cloaking device.

As Shaine turned on a fourth Boomer, Mitch smashed the core of the last one. "How about that door?"

"_I'm working on it!_" Shaine returned to the console. "Get all the sensor data on those things you can, while you're at it!"

Mitch set his suit back to scan mode and carefully noted the data as it was placed in his suit recorder. Temperature, heart rate...all of it looked more like human data than Boomer...

Shaine finished hacking the door control mechanism - the code was ITSALIVE - and the panel began to slide open again. "Harris! Hurry!"

Jim approached the Boomer cautiously, ignoring her. 

"Jump now and let's get out of here! Or are you thinking of fighting that thing just for the hell of it?" She stepped toward the pit again and saw a thick crack along the Boomer's chest. _Great...and I thought the lunatic who runs this place was bad... _Stepping closer, she could see that the Boomer's vital organs were contained in jars, with wires running back to its body...there was a second, humanlike figure contained in it, peering with glasslike eyes out of the rift.

"Rice? Is that you?

"I can't see, Babe...I can't see you... You said I would be able to see..." The huge Boomer's head began to move, following the path of its occupant's blind eyes. "Who's there?"

"Yes, this is Rice." _How did it see past my cloak enough to even know I'm here? Or did it just hear me?_

"Rice? Babe...what's wrong with your voice? Did the Shadow Lady give you money for the birds?"

There was a long pause.

"Rice...so, so Rice, did you get it?"

"It seems I'm getting sick. Don't worry about it. And no, I haven't seen her."

"Sick?" The chest of the thing inside the Boomer pumped up and down, its mouth opened a bit, but the laughter was silent, ghoullike. "That's a good one..."

"It seems no one has seen her...any ideas?"

"I thought you were the only one who goes and sees her."

"So did I. But now no one knows where she is."

Above the pit, Mitch was inspecting the room more carefully. He found a photograph of a man and a woman, both cyperpunks. "Freefall, look at this!"

"Great," the Boomer-symbiont moaned. "So she stiffs you on the money...yet _again_..."

Shaine quickly stepped away from the edge of the pit and snapped a copy of the image with her data recorder. "You recognize them?"

"The guy looks familiar, but I can't put a name to it."

"Yes," Jim replied. "But when I find her I'll get it this time."

"I told you, Babe, forget about her!"

"We'll run it through the ADP database when we get back," Shaine said, then returned to the pit's edge.

"But don't we need that money?"

"We'll go back to getting stuff the old way. Sure, she set us up here, but she's asking too much now. We don't need the money! Babe, I'm only half the man you wanted. I want to be _whole_...I want to live like we planned..."

"Do we really want to go back to the old ways?"

"Hey, it's not like those ADP jerks ever missed anything...what's more some of them just let us have the bodies after they'd shot 'em up..."

"Yeah, but we can't keep it up forever."

"Sure the parts were a bit on the messy side...but we can always cobble them together again..."

"Sure. We can still use 'em."

The being in the Boomer groaned and slumped back. "I...I need some more rest. We can talk later, 'kay?"

"Yes...get your rest..."

Mitch walked to the edge, next to Shaine. "Any luck?"

"Hey, who's that? Who's there?"

"Who's _who?_"

"Babe...? Did you bring another guy over?"

Mitch backed up slowly, without making a sound. "Next time, use your suit comm!" Shaine hissed.

"Who's who? I thought...I thought I heard someone... There's no one else, right, just you and me?"

"I didn't hear anything. Someone let a cat in, but that's it."

"Damn cat. --Hey Babe...even though I'm in pieces...I'm still your man, right?"

Shaine fought back an attack of nausea. A human, or seeming human...and that _thing_...

"Yeah, you're still my man." He paused. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it...now get some rest..."

"Babe?" The thing's voice was weak. "When we're together again, promise me we'll turn the cats into our kind first?"

"All right. The cats can go first."

"Like the one we saw when the sky was set on fire...that was real pretty..."

"Yes it was. Now, then, get your rest before you wear yourself out..."

A light snoring could be heard issuing from inside the fissure in the Boomer's body. The door to the chest compartment closed.

"Finished, Babe?" Shaine snickered. _You remind me of the babe... A Goblin babe!_ _How appropriate...I feel like I'm lost in the Labyrinth today..._

"Yes, Freefall...coming up..."

"Then let's fly."

The sound of a door opening stopped them cold. There were footsteps... Shaine and Mitch cloaked quickly as Jim jumped out of the pit. "Wait..."

"Stay for now. I want to see this." Shaine and Jim took up positions by the wall, while Mitch stood his ground.

A small, dishevelled woman walked through the showroom, several bags in her hands.

"We should take her," Jim whispered. "Get more information."

The woman looked around and dropped the bags in shock. Boomer parts fell out and scattered across the floor. She ran into the back room, and Mitch retreated to an out-of-the-way corner near Shaine.

"I don't think Crimson would take kindly to snatching humans...even guilty humans..."

"It's also kidnapping!"

"Is Crimson here? We _need_ to find out what's going on here!"

The woman sat down at the computer and started typing furiously.

"No. We were never here. We can't let anyone link us to this..."

"Babe? Is that you?"

"What happened?" she asked.

"What do you mean what happened?" The creature and the woman - Rice, Jim assumed - began arguing. The three Ravens slid out of the room and back to the Nest.

"All right," Shaine said. "Once we get back, get your suits off and bring your data recorders to room 402. I'll meet you there."

///

The jumpsuit was glued to her skin with a sheen of sweat. Shaine grimaced as it peeled off like an old bandage. She was going to need a good shower when this was done--

Well, why not right then? Pinning her hair up with two large clips, she turned on the spray and ducked under before she could think better of it. _Let them wait for me._

But she only allowed herself a few moments before grabbing a towel and returning to her locker. As she toweled off, a picture taped to the inside of the locker door caught her eye: a girl standing next to her, both of them in black and gold facepaint.

_Liddy...Crash...I promise I'll call you. Soon. I just hope you understand..._

///

Jim took his time getting the suit off, carefully studying each piece. _We should've taken the woman...there's little enough we learned as it is, and hacker-girl sure is upright for a woman wanted by the FBI..._ He shook his head, finished dressing, and popped the data recorder out of his suit.

The elevator spat him out on the fourth floor near several small offices of the type used by graduate students and associate professors the world over. The tiny cells had little plastic holders next to them, too, sitting beneath the room number and announcing whom the occupant of the month happened to be. 

_Room 402, Shaine Kohl_, was written in a vague scrawl. Beneath it was something that looked like, _Welcome to the realm of the truly bizarre. _There was a circle-like sketch, a wheel of some sort with lines, that seemed to break at the top...

Mitch was already there, and Shaine stepped up behind him, walked in. She seemed a bit more relaxed and he thought that parts of her hair looked damp. 

Her newfound casual look blended in with the character of the office. Alien and UFO paraphernalia, including an actual "I Want to Believe" poster, cluttered the room, along with a handful of computers and boxes full of expansion cards and disks. On the desk, Mulder and Scully action figures held hands and came as close to gazing soulfully into each others' eyes as two plastic people of disparate height could.

Jim gingerly stepped over a rather ancient IBM - 8086, or maybe even 8088 - and sat down.

"Let's go over the Boomer scans first," Shaine said, artfully sidestepping the piles of paper, books, and software by the side of her desk.

"These look almost like human readings," Mitch said. "Heart and lungs are organic...only the skin and a few small parts are Boomer."

"I don't get it. That would make them weaker." She looked at the scans from the brain. "_Verdrehen!_"

"What?"

"The brain...it's human _and_ Boomer..."

"It looks like the man wants to become a Boomer himself..."

"Yeah, like he's J.F. Sebastian or something."

Mitch rubbed the side of his face and watched a series of confused expressions play over Shaine's face. Jim remained silent.

"Now, the cyberpunks going for that I can understand...but what's a man on that side of town doing falling for that Boomer-is-better crap? He's got money, his life's easy...

"Why would he want to have Boomer parts?" She frowned.

"If we had taken the woman, we could've found out," Jim replied flatly.

"And would we have put her back? Knowing what she would about us?"

"No. When we're done we'd kill her."

Shaine's voice was soft. "We don't do that sort of thing around here, Mr. Harris."

"Then what's the point? Pussyfooting around doesn't get you anywhere."

"And leaving a visible trail for Genom to hunt us down by?" She exploded. "Tell them exactly what we're thinking? What we're doing?"

"You left enough of a trail with those Boomers you killed earlier."

Shaine didn't say a word.

"What difference would it make to kill more?"

"Humans, not Boomers. Boomers aren't alive!"

"So... When we go after Genom, do you think we will always be fighting Boomers?"

"We'll burn that bridge when we get to it," Mitch said.

"Or fall off it," Jim countered.

"There's one over there I'd really like to shoot," Shaine muttered, the point of the matter temporarily forgotten.

"So what makes them different from the woman last night?"

"Do you have _any_ idea what Genom has done--" She cut off sharply.

"Do I care?"

"Listen, Mr. High-Price Assassination, I have lost more than you think." Mitch was beginning to get just as hostile.

"And you'll probably lose more. Get over it."

"I'm not going to be what they are."

"If we don't set some boundaries..." Shaine whispered, barely holding back tears, "Draw a line somewhere...then we're really no better than them."

"In war, boundaries get you killed. If you don't pull the trigger, the enemy will."

"No. Boundaries are what keep you sane. They keep you from becoming a machine...or a monster..."

"And how do you come to that assumption?"

"Believe what you like, Mr. Harris. Just don't act on it unless you know you have the Ravens' approval."

Jim shook his head. "I'll not be killed over your ideals. I'm here to follow orders--"

"I'll not be like _him!_" The sudden, sharp outburst took him by surprise. Before she had been passive, even in anger, but at that point she seemed ready to vault over the desk and fly at him.

"Be like me? What's wrong with me?"

"No. You know who." She was furious, and he had no idea why.

"Who is this you know who?" he demanded.

"_Erik_..." It came out grating against her throat, as if her entire body was fighting against its release. She stood and hurriedly walked out, tipping over a sheaf of notebooks.

Belladonna appeared at the door, seemingly about to walk in. She hung back, watching Shaine walk away.

"And who the hell is Erik?"

"Her uncle," Bell said.

"A _really_ sick loser."

"And VP of Genom...among other things..." Her demeanor changed almost instantaneously. "So, you guys done with the computer?"

"Go ahead, Bell." Mitch smiled uneasily.

"Okay, cool! I was just checking the ISDN lines." She burrowed under the desk, pulling out a toolkit.

"James, you always been this way?"

He turned toward Mitch. "What way?"

Belladonna hit her head on the desk and clawed her way back out. The resulting deskquake knocked Mulder and Scully from their perch and they fell to the floor.

"Kill anything to achieve the goal..."

"That's not a way of being. It's something that is just done. I follow my orders. If I were ordered to kill you...her...anyone here...then so be it."

"Man, that is some cold slag!" Belladonna scowled. "Like getting bit by a damned snake..."

"I understand about orders. I've even killed before. But only in self-defense."

"And the difference? You're still taking a life."

"Snake...bite..." Bell jumped up and started hopping around.

"Self defense! That's only an excuse!" Jim shook his head.

"Yes...murder in cold blood is always wrong."

"And who are you to decide what is cold-blooded murder? 

"Killing for a cause...killing in defense...killing for sport... It's all the same. Someone dies."

"No. The important thing is _why_."

"Why has no meaning. It's still killing. And why not? Why should any person die? You don't need an excuse."

"You're wrong. You've lost the reason why you kill...you just _do_."

"I kill because I have orders to do it - or to stay alive, in the case of humans. If you threaten my life, don't think I won't hesitate to pull the trigger."

"Hey, HEY! There will be no killing of a fellow Raven! Okay. Wolvie, Snakebite, go to your corners..."

Mitch left the room.

"Do you have something to add?"

"Do I really need to? ..."

"If you have something to say, say it."

"...Or could it be that somewhere next to the venom you call blood, you think they might be right?"

"Right or wrong has nothing to do with it. I'm here on a contract."

"Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that. One day you might just believe it."

"Sad thing is...I do."

"Yeah, Snakebite, somehow I think you do..." She walked out.

Jim shook his head. "Not a backbone in any one of them..." He sighed. "At least I'm getting paid well..."

///

The darts flew into the board with uncharacteristic force, seemingly swift enough to crack the thing in two if enough of them were used.

Mitch didn't see Jinks standing behind him. "Mitch..."

He jumped. "Jinks! What are you doing here?"

"We need you back at the office."

"Is the Black Snake still there?"

"Who... Harris? No, he said he was going to the rifle range..."

Mitch slammed one more dart into the center of the target, then nodded. "All right, let's go."

///

Shaine really, really didn't like computer labs. 

This one was set up so that no one else could see what was on her screen without a considerable amount of effort, but she still felt as if anyone could see over her shoulder. She began to type faster. _Let's get this over with..._

She hadn't intended for the final blow to Genom's research labs to be such a burden in her mind, but she couldn't very well go back to the office, and she didn't want to wait until she'd calmed down again.

_Punishment ought to be swift and severe, don't you think? ...damn, who was it who said that?_ Going over sci-fi villains in her head, she sliced into a relatively unsecured Genom terminal for the third time and transmitted the second activation code.

_"Do you want to leave a message?"_ displayed, followed by a prompt.

"Hmmm..."

"Shaine?"

She turned the monitor off hastily. "_What?_"

"Jumpy, are we?" Jinks smiled.

Shaine could type the logout sequence blind, so she entered _white rabbit_ and then severed the connection without looking. She doubted she needed to give him any clues, but she enjoyed taunting him...

"I was wondering if you would mind me looking over some of the data from the Boomer shop."

"No, go ahead." Shaine turned the monitor back on.

"Thank you." Jinks sat down at the next terminal and opened Shaine's shared network drive. She clicked on a few files, then began to type. "So what did you think of the Boomers that guarded the Frankenboomer?"

"They looked too human. Not much of a threat militarily - a light breeze could've pushed them over - but I'd worry about the mental state of a person who would make such things."

"Did they say anything?"

"No. Rumor had it when I left that Genom was working on something like that, with new emotional capabilities, but it didn't look like it'd ever pan out as a commercial model. Too dangerous...like Sexaroids. My father did some research on it, but nothing too detailed."

"I've read a few reports on hybrids," Mitch said. "But that was the first one I'd actually seen."

"Where did you read about hybrids?"

"MIT science journal. It was by a former graduate student, I think. They did a study but no experiments."

"Yes, exactly!" Shaine's eyes lit up. "He called them Replicants...it was all he would talk about for a few months."

"I've seen those. They're not much use."

"There's a problem with sensory deprivation," Mitch added.

"Yes, they had to be powerfully stimulated...and it was very easy to get the emotions out of balance."

"Where did you see Replicants?" Mitch asked.

"Right here in the city. But we destroyed them; there aren't any in Chicago now."

"I'd like to see the records of that, if I may," Shaine said warily. "I might be able to tell if they're 'Kohl' or not."

"Man, what a nightmare!"

"They were posing as a band called Red Equinox. Pretty dark, had a wide following. Mostly Boomeroids."

"Perfect cover," Mitch said.

"They used a virus that turned humans into Boomers via a...mutation. More or less it made a human want to become a Boomer. Fortunately it wasn't airborne; it required physical touch to be transmitted. But still, they managed to turn a lot of kids into monsters..."

"Is there an antidote?"

"None. It is irreversable and eventually fatal. It began as an anti-Boomer weapon but something happened to it...all of the samples degraded, even in lab conditions... We have found a way to block it for a time, but not cure it."

"So there is a way to stop this nightmare."

"The nightmare ended after their last concert in Old Grant Park. We...had to set off...a low level explosion. There were no survivors."

"What about these cyberpunks?" Shaine asked.

Jinks seemed to zone out.

"Something tells me that _something _survived." Mitch frowned.

"I can assure you that the _things_ in that lab were not my father's work. Therefore they had to come from someone else who had experience with Replicants. I studied those bodies and it would have been possible to see his trademark mannerisms in design. Even if some other engineer had taken up where he left off."

"We never found the person who made the virus. Or any survivors."

"There's no point in finding fault here," Mitch said. "I just want to put an end to this."

Jinks turned back to the computer. "These things you fought...do you think you could get one back here? Or at least to a containment van?"

"Depends on who's looking for us now that they know we know. The symbiont mentioned a 'Shadow Lady' who was subsidizing their work..."

"Oh, there should be no problem there."

"She could be powerful. Hell, she could be Genom!"

"If she is, and she gets in our way, she won't live to regret it."

"Call it a guess...but what about the President of Genom?" Mitch asked.

"Isn't she three-quarters Boomer herself?"

"The Red...those bastards tried to turn my child into a monster...I won't let it happen again!" Jinks stopped. "Yes...she is..."

"I heard a lot of griping about her, before I came here... This seems just her style."

"It may very well be."

"I've heard rumors about Carter that would make your skin crawl." Mitch added.

"She has a personal grudge against me and Starbright. There have been many attempts to kill me...and my children... I don't have proof but I believe that Red Equinox were one of her pet projects."

"The police have been trying to make a case against her, but she always slips out of it. High-priced lawyers."

Shaine shivered. "What else do you expect? They've got money and no compunctions against using it..."

"I would expect her to make sure Mr. Kohl came between her and us...and I would expect that at some point Chicago will be our own personal war zone. Fighting out in the open..."

"Then you'd best make sure they never know I'm here."

"Shaine, no one will ever know any of us are here. The Ravens don't have files in any outside computer system... Even now, the only person to know for certain that you are alive is Erik, and he may be in as much danger as you are."

"Oh?"

"Carter...takes to men like a cat to a mouse. She plays with them, gives them the illusion of power, then has them killed. I know...I've buried three lovers because of her."

Shaine scowled. "I doubt he'd fall for that. Doesn't go for humans, y'know..."

Her voice grew softer, quieter. "No consequences to anything you do with a Boomer..." It sounded like a direct quote.

Jinks smiled. "I know. But Erik may not be fully human, either. There was something in his last posting at Genom..."

Shaine looked up from the computer screen in confusion.

"There was never a full report, but he was in a hospital for at least three weeks..."

"When? That _can't_ be right!"

"It was ten years ago. February 2, 2030. Nowadays, they can replace your whole body..."

"Of _course_ he was in hospital ten years ago! He broke his arm skiing and they had to perform surgery... Mama flew out to Germany to see him, and I went with her."

"Well, I could be wrong, but a broken arm doesn't take three weeks, and didn't even in 2030..."

"It was at the end of the war. They got his records mixed up, thought he was an East German soldier. That hospital room could as well have been a prison cell."

"I see."

"They did DNA testing," she insisted. "He's human!"

"Well, it was just a guess. At any rate, we have to go get those Boomers from the shop."

"Right."

"Suit up and grab your rifles. We'll go in ready for whatever trap they may have for us..." Jinks looked shaken, maybe even a little crazed. "We're going. Now."

Mitch's cell phone rang. He ducked into the hall, then returned a few moments later and said he had ADP business.

"It's all right. We'll call one of the others." He left.

Jinks found the phone in the computer lab and called Jim, then Saki, then Belladonna. None responded. "Well. They seem to all have left for the night. Do you think we can do this on our own?" There was a mischievous grin on her face.

Shaine scowled.

"Or should I try to raise Lark and Sprocket?"

"Let's just go and get this over with."

"I knew you'd see it my way."

///

Evon glanced at the battered Rolodex card in his hand again. _1013 Lake. This must be it._ He'd never visited his brother's house in Chicago, despite frequent prodding to "come meet the girls," and he wouldn't have been there then except for the fact that Erik insisted upon his presence.

Besides that, there was that damned huge hill looming up in front of him. And no stairs either. Using his cane almost as a mountain climber would a piton, he made his way up the steep slope.

The size of the thing reeked of mathematical precision and efficiency to the engineer's eyes. It was, by his estimate, exactly large enough to house one reasonably well-off man and a Boomer support staff...no frills. He thought he noticed an indoor pool off to one side, but the rest so far was simply a quite tasteful and expensive version of the old essentials. No dead weight. There were some small flower beds lying empty in the winter cold, but the trees had been left to their own devices.

Perhaps he'd worn off on Erik after all.

A tiny, female Boomer appeared at the door. She was roughly of the phenotype that Robert Heinlein called "China doll," though she seemed to be Japanese rather than Chinese. _That one looks familiar..._

"Oh, you must be Evon! I'll go tell Erik you're here... Sit down, go ahead...would you like anything? Tea? Coffee? Anything?" She was far too eager to please. Yes, he remembered her...

"What's your name, dear?"

"I'm Callysta. Service number 3056-C--"

Evon waved a hand in dismissal. "No need to be formal. I thought I knew you. My little hummingbird..."

She glanced at him oddly. "Oh, he must have wiped your memory. I remember building you...I called you Hummingbird because of the way you rushed here and there...always so busy... They changed that, though, when they started testing...all of those repellant alliterative names..."

"Oh. I'd like to hear about that sometime; Erik never lets us talk about being in the lab. I think some of the others remember it, even if they never say anything... Oh, but let me go get him!"

Evon grinned as she retreated hastily. He hadn't thought Erik had the patience to take on Cally, but perhaps she made good practice for dealing with Carter.

He sat back, and allowed himself to gasp for breath. He didn't want to go in there still exhausted from the walk up the hill.

///

The Replicant Kathy's fingers worked their way gently but insistently across the surface of Erik's right hand. Kathleen O'Shea Kohl, the human, had been a physical therapist and Erik had seen no reason to cut corners in the training of her replacement. He was quite glad he hadn't.

"Mmmm...there, is that better?"

"Much, dear." He smiled. She turned her attentions to his wrist, and he leaned back, closing his eyes.

Cally opened the door to Erik's study and walked in. "Evon's here!" she announced.

Erik glanced at her from beneath ever-so-slightly raised eyelids. "You ought to knock first, next time."

"Uhm...sorry." She left just as quickly as she had arrived.

"Do you want me to leave?" Kathy asked.

"No, that's all right. It's about time Evon met you..."


	6. Pieces of You, pt. 2

Pieces of You,

Pieces of You, Part 2  
_By Harris, Mitch, Shaine, and Shatterclaw. Individual rating: PG-13._

Shaine frowned. "They've changed the locks..."

"Try again."

"Damn it..." She bent over the lock and used a few different tricks. On the third try, it popped open.

At the same time, Mitch received a page from his lab assistant: _Don't worry - I fixed it._ Mitch grimaced, thinking of just how badly the new assistant would probably botch it, but turned his car around. He had a bad feeling about the others.

The door opened onto an empty shop. Shaine walked in, followed by Jinks, and stared at the bare walls and empty showcases. The door to the back room was open, and from it glowed a reddish light.

Jinks began to scan the first room as Shaine headed toward the back. The scene in the other room seemed straight out of a B-movie...

A Boomer stood in the center of the room, wrapped in bandages. Two Boomeroids were trying to free her.

"Hold it right there!" Shaine brought up her rifle and aimed at the Boomer.

"The mistressss hass been waiting for youssssss..." one of the pale yellow Boomeroids said.

"Jinks, get in here!"

Mitch, just arriving at the shop, heard and followed Jinks in. He gaped at the bandaged creature, which started to unwrap her head.

"So good to meet those who would invade my castle. 

"I am the Baroness von Ricci."

_Rice? But how..._

"My children brought you here so that you can join us...become one with us..."

"What are you talking about?" Jinks asked.

"You are the Borg; resistance is futile?"

Ricci/Rice laughed at Shaine. "The Borg are nothing to me! Mere mortal, you will bow before me and become one of my children..."

Mitch smiled, and the smile became a snarl as he slowly unsheathed his twinblades. The Boomer saw, and her palm glowed. A bloodred sphere of energy flew towards Mitch, who dodged. "Cute move!" He was still grazed by the sphere, but he landed on both feet and was able to fire his laser at her the moment he hit the ground.

The bolt hit her thigh, and he fired again as she screeched in pain. The Boomer threw one of her attendants into the path of the attack. Mitch aimed his railgun.

"You have no idea what you are dealing with!" The Boomer floated into the air, shedding her bandages to reveal a sleek body beneath.

"Hey Freefall, how do you like your potatoes?" Mitch tossed his microwave jammer to her.

She caught it. "Well done," she replied, and fired. The Boomers - and the wall behind them - went up in flames. "I think you need to adjust the settings on this, Wolverine. Blackened Cajun Boomer isn't on my list of favorite foods!"

"Let's get out of here..."

Not too long after they stepped out of the building, the entire thing went up in flames. Shaine stared knowingly, then handed the jammer back to Mitch.

"Mitch, don't use that thing again until I have a look at it, okay?"

"Sure, Jinks, but it's a new technology...the bugs still aren't worked out."

"I noticed." She muttered something under her breath. "Back to the base."

///

Evon stepped into the room nervously, as if expecting to be ambushed. He glanced around warily, then walked to the desk and sat down upon finding that there was no one else in the room.

It had to be a trap...a joke...but there was no one there but Erik and his Boomer. He couldn't see the Boomer's face; she was turned partially away from him and her dark, curly hair obscured what little else he might have been able to see. She was small like the others, not particularly different in any way...

"Evon. I'm so glad you finally accepted my invitation."

"I'm just here on business."

"Of _course_," he purred. "I wanted to talk about your new design. But, seeing as the server just went down--"

"What?"

"It seems that Shaine is capable of more mischief than Others had anticipated..." _Others meaning Carter, yes, Erik... _"she didn't manage to pirate anything, but she did destroy the entire research intranet... We'll be reinstalling from last week's tape backup, not much loss in anything other than time. What I was wondering about...were the messages she sent with this virus of hers. Two I understood...but the first one..."

"What was it?"

"Third man on a match dies."

"Ahhh, Erik! You need to brush up on your twentieth century history... Remember that class on the Vietnam War she had to take for her general education requirements?"

"Remind me."

"She thought it was brilliantly ironic...well, you know how she hates smoking... American soldiers in Vietnam would refuse to share a match to light their cigarettes because it gave them away to the enemy. First man lit up, the Viet Cong knew someone was there. Second man, they could gauge position and distance... Third man, they fired."

"I see." He frowned. "Cryptography was stumped on that one."

"Well, with all the young pups you've got down there...not to mention the Replicant; she isn't like the real thing at all..."

A small noise escaped Kathy's throat. _Damn it, not now...not when he's already questioning..._

Evon's eyes widened. "Kathy?" It seemed impossible, but he knew that sound...

She turned.

"You _bastard._" It was all he was capable of saying.

"Now, now Evon... Be nice. I want us to be family, now... Maybe Shaine needs a little more work, but soon we'll all be together and we can forget about all of the mistakes we've made--"

Evon let loose with a choked stream of curses in German, then stormed out. Kathy winced.

_He always was the weak one...why am I so surprised? I shouldn't have expected more from him._

///

"You two get into your street clothes; I'm going to go look at the readings." 

Mitch put on a shirt and jeans, then prepared to leave. He passed Jinks on the way out. She was in her lab, bent over a scanner. "Come on, just a trace...just one trace!" she muttered to herself.

Mitch realized he'd forgotten a disk back in the Nest. As he walked away from his car he saw Crimson's Barracuda pull up, driven by Saki. Jim got out of the back seat, slinging an odd-shaped lump over his shoulder.

Coming closer, but not saying anything as he followed Jim in, he could see that it was a black-feathered avian Boomer the size of an eagle.

Shaine turned away as Jim passed, pointedly ignoring both him and his catch. A stench filled the air, emanating from the jellylike goo covering the Boomer's body. He tossed it onto an empty lab table, and the _thump_ startled Jinks.

She looked at Jim...and then at the body...

"There. It's a new type of Boomer."

"What is the meaning of this?"

Shaine slowly walked in and leaned against the doorframe as she watched. Mitch was already hovering over the body, studying it closely but not yet touching it.

"A new Boomer?"

"Did I stutter?" He frowned. "I went back to the woman and her boyfriend's place..."

Jinks pulled out a host of scanning equipment, swiftly recovering from the shock.

"I've never seen this type before!" Mitch said.

"Join the club, Mr. Microwave..."

Shaine smirked. "Maybe Mitch's codename should have been Emeril."

Jim shook his head, then Jinks continued, "And yes, James, you stutter quite badly...you should have that looked at."

"Let me repeat, then. It's a new kind of Boomer."

Mitch ignored them and continued to examine the body. "Intriguing!" Shaine stepped forward in morbid fascination. It was not so much new as it was a different use of existing tech...something that could have been cobbled together by a source other than Genom...

Jim sighed and walked over to a chair, dripping Boomer blood.

"So...is this a genuine Genom model or did they hack it together themselves?"

"It seems to have animal and human DNA," Jinks noted, just as the bird jumped to life. It grabbed Jinks in one taloned claw and reached for Mitch.

Mitch sliced through the arm with a cutting torch, freeing Jinks, just as Jim fired a single shot into its head.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Mitch," she gasped. "James, Mitch, help me get this thing locked down before it kills someone."

Jim shook his head and walked toward the Boomer. He fired three shots into its head and three more into its chest. "There. Now it won't kill anyone." He walked back to his seat and watched as Mitch and Jinks prepared to open it up.

"Shaine, hook the computer up to this thing. See if you can find the shutdown codes."

"I've already got the source copied...good thing, too. Looks like there's not much left of the core unit." She pulled up a cracking program and started to decompile the Boomer's code.

"Thank you, James." Jinks began to disassemble the Boomer. 

Jim sighed, and leaned back to watch.

"There are no shutdown codes."

"Great," Jinks replied. "Okay, ten dollars says this is Genom's revenge for clean living..."

"It's programmed to seek and destroy and it was looking for us. There's a second part of the program but it hasn't been entered yet."

Jim smiled slightly. "Oops."

"Just stubs, and I can't tell anything from the way it was implemented. Whoever wrote this wasn't sloppy."

"Great."

Jim wiped off a bit of the ooze clinging to his skin and clothing, then flicked it at Mitch. "So what did you do while I was gone?"

Mitch just smiled.

"Oh, nothing much," Jinks said. "Just found its mother...Mitch and Shaine turned her into a baked potato."

"Oh?" _I shot the hell out of that place before I left...what could they have found there?_

"This thing has level seven AI," Shaine said. "That's about the same as a human."

"It also has raven DNA..."

"Raven as in the bird?"

"Yes."

"Someone's idea of a sick joke?"

"Gee, Mitch, do you feel like laughing?"

Jim reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. They were soggy. Damn.

"The blood appears to be a petroleum-based fluid," Mitch reported.

Shaine glanced up from the computer screen. "Some of the weapons on this thing are pretty heavy stuff. I guess it pays to be trigger happy sometimes.

"What do you think?"

"She's right, Jinks. This thing has a military-issue heat cannon in the chest. That's big money."

"This thing is unreal..." Jinks stopped and looked at Shaine. "What is the weapons status?"

"Active and armed."

She paled. "Okay. Mitch, help me find its power; we're going to have to cut it before we can go on."

"I've found a large battery..."

"I wouldn't count on that being the only source," Shaine warned.

"Yes, that would figure...between the flight and the weapons...which means we have a rather large bomb on our hands. Can you find them, Shaine?"

"Batteries are in the legs and back. Just behind the wings. I'm not reading any emergency shutdown mechanism..."

She smiled grimly and continued with false cheer: "Though there _is_ an autodestruct..."

"James, would you mind getting the EMP gun from the locker to your right?"

He sighed and obeyed. The gun was five feet long and very heavy. "Okay, Mitch, Shaine, move back. When we're out of the way, James, fire..."

Jim braced it over his shoulder and fired just as the others stepped back. The recoil nearly knocked him over, and the Boomer jumped from the table in the middle of the blue burst, twitching and flopping back, then going still again as a faint smell of smoke filled the air. Jim replaced the gun, and went back to his seat.

"It's fried," Shaine announced. "Everything is gone, except for my copy of the programming. I'll take a closer look later."

"Not everything...the body may still hold some clues."

Jim shook his head. "Jesus...all of that work..."

"Not in vain. We're still in one piece..."

"Yeah," Shaine said, intentionally thoughtless. "And I've got a new toy." He sighed, and she slipped the newly-burned hypercard into her purse. _Right next to my lipstick, a book of poems, and an emergency stash of candy...if only he knew..._

"And," Jinks continued, "If I'm right, this thing may hold the key to the virus."

"There's a small black box at the base of the skull," Mitch said.

"What? Where?"

Jim picked up the goo-soaked cigarettes again and threw them at the Boomer. "Looks like I have to get another now..."

"Top drawer, to the right! Oh, and there are some cigs on top of the cabinet next to you..."

"Thanks."

"Sure, keep me from smoking them... We should go back, see if we can find more of these."

"You're not going to find any more. Not there, at least. Maybe in a Genom warehouse...but not there for much longer, either."

Mitch removed the black box and Shaine wired it up to an odd-looking device. Pressing a few buttons, she started feeding it input and recording the signals she got back.

"Do you think you could find another?"

"I found this one...and this time I know Genom has them."

Mitch looked up at Jinks. "What do you think?"

"I think that you and Shaine should turn that thing inside out."

"Well..." Jim said, "While I was there actually getting something _done_ I overheard that Rice wasn't completely finished with these.

"I have a theory, James. These were meant to be our replacements." Jinks frowned. "Really. She's not done with them...or was she not done with testing?"

"Just plain not done. The tests showed they were ready for something, so Genom will probably ship them home to be finished."

"Mmm. Most likely the first round of weapons testing, or the first field tests. Who did Rice say it to?"

"Some people showed up - obviously with money, and Boomers up the ass...took out enough, at least. But anyways, she was complaining about not having enough money or protection."

Shaine was suddenly quite attentive. "Was there a blond man, about five foot ten?"

"Jinks! Look at this!"

"What is it, Mitch?"

"It's got a four-plug hole where it attaches to the spine..."

"Hook it up."

Jim puffed on a cigarette and looked at Mitch's latest discovery.

"I've managed to pull the blueprints off of this thing," Shaine said idly. "But what about these people? What did they look like?"

"I was a little busy getting you this Boomer and staying alive...maybe next time I'll just walk down and have a smoke with them, see who they are and what they're about..." He shook his head.

Shaine glared at him. "It's kind of hard to miss the family resemblance. He looks like he could be my father..."

"I only saw the limo."

She frowned.

"Next time," Jim whispered, "You can go...kill ten or so Boomers with just a gun and capture a new type of Boomer...see just how well it can fly without being seen by it... Is that something you should worry about? If so, then ask around...someone might know something..."

"Jinks! I found something!"

Jinks shot Jim a cautioning look, then turned to Mitch. "What is it?"

He had another copy of the black box programming, and had deciphered a different part of it. "I think I know where out little friend came from."

"Where?"

"What do you think, Jinks?"

"It's an odd design...it's advanced enough, yet made in an almost haphazard way...but I assume you're referring to the human DNA, not the mechanical parts."

"Yeah...I've got full writeups on the DNA structure, but no names."

"It'd have to be on file with the local hospitals, maybe the FBI central database, depending. Good job...now we don't have to strip out the raven DNA before we do our search. That can be your pet project. Shaine, can you pull up the core programming?"

"Already done."

"Does it have a manufacturer's label?"

"Yeah. Standard Gulf and Bradley design." She lowered her voice and muttered, "Cheap knockoff..."

"Any link to Genom?"

"No. No Genom parts at all."

"Hmmm...what do you make of that?"

"Looks like someone doesn't want to get his hands dirty."

Mitch grabbed his coat. "I'm off to the hospital, then...call me if you need anything."

Jinks nodded. "Be sure you have a weapon on you."

"No problem, I have my service revolver."

Jinks watched him leave, then turned back to Shaine. "What about the weapons?" 

Shaine pulled up a military database. "I'll check on the serials...these are definitely military issue, and not surplus either..." She typed the numbers in. "All of these serials are coming up as stolen from a military outpost."

"Hmmm." Deep in thought, she continued to study the Boomer for a half hour more.

The phone rang. It was Mitch.

Jinks put him on speakerphone. "What have you found?"

"A bum. His name is Arthur Gant. Age 54, died 2024."

"How did he die?"

"Liver failure, probably from alcoholism."

"And where is he buried?"

"Charity Grounds." It was one of the more popular cemetaries, but had its share of run-down plots. It was also where the city disposed of those who had no money to pay for their own burial.

"Okay. Shaine, Vicki, and I will meet you there, and we'll have a look at the grave."

///

Mitch didn't have to wait long before the old, blue van pulled up. "Hey, handsome, you want a ride?" Lark called from inside. She opened the door, and the three Ravens got out.

Mitch laughed. "Good to see you too!"

There were definite indicators of the several strata of society represented in the cemetary. On one hand, towering Romanesque angels and well-maintained mausoleums aged gracefully beneath the omnipresent willow trees, and on the other there were cracked tombstones and weed-covered plots. Among the latter group was the long-untended grave of Arthur Gant.

Mitch looked down at it and nodded. "I have a shovel in my trunk."

"Wait," Jinks said. "I have a scanner." 

She took out a small black box and ran it over the grave. "There are a few remains...but no actual body."

"Empty grave?"

"Not entirely empty... Shaine, do you have your laptop?"

"Yeah." Shaine took the black box and plugged it in. 

"Make a copy of the readings for me." She peered at the screen. "It looks like a skull and either an arm or possibly a leg... There's more missing than there is actually there."

"I've got a bad feeling about this..."

"I know, Mitch...I have the same feeling. Better grab the shovel."

The grave was relatively shallow but it still took some time. Eventually Mitch hit the top of a wooden box - not a casket - and pried it open. 

Jinks flashed a light down into the hole. "This is from the virus...that Red Equinox spread." She jumped down into the hole with Mitch, placed the skull in a bag, and handed it to him. "Let's get out of here."

"I'm with that idea!" Mitch went back to his car with the skull and the rest hurried to the van. Back at the Nest, Mitch placed the skull into an isolation chamber and opened the bag with robot arms. Just then, Jinks arrived with an EMP gun.

"James, can you take us back to the warehouse where you found the Boomer?"

"I guess so."

Jinks looked at the others. "One last field trip for the night?"

"Sure. Why not." Shaine seemed less than enthusiastic about working with Jim, but Jinks didn't say anything.

Jim shrugged. "Fine."

"Good. We'll go in suits this time...and make sure that we end this _now_." She walked out of the room, followed by Mitch and Shaine.

Jim shook his head. _Seems like I'm hearing an echo from a few nights ago..._

///

Old Chicago was a subterranean ruin filled with decayed and run-down buildings. Jim and Mitch surveyed the area carefully as they landed, followed by Jinks and Shaine. "Okay, James. The show is yours."

Jim led them toward a warehouse, its exterior fitting in with the grungy feel of the neighborhood. The sounds of a power lifter suit, a bulky and weaponless version of the ADP's K-suits, could be heard coming from it. The Ravens engaged their cloaks and walked toward the open doors of the loading bay.

Inside were four trucks, each being loaded with remnants of the contents of Rice's back room. Rice herself was in the power suit, and her boyfriend was crawling toward one of the trucks. The latter's Frankenboomer host lay on a table awaiting transport. Both of the Boomeroids looked less human than they had before.

"Told you this place would be cleaned out," Jim said over his suit comm. Shaine bit her lip but said nothing.

"Yeah, looks like they're closing shop!"

"We made it just in time," Jinks added.

"Well, it's your call. I got you here...what now?"

"It's your show, James. What do you say we do?"

He shook his head. "Mitch, can you take out the trucks? We can't let anything get away."

"You mean stop the truck? Or destroy it?"

"No...too obvious. Destroy the engine."

Shaine was growing nervous. _Whatever those things are, they were human once...but they're also Genom. Does it really matter what happens to them after what they've done? What they would continue to do?_

"Don't waste time, just stop them from going anywhere!" Jim's harsh tone snapped her out of reverie.

"Right," Jinks said, and the two female Ravens moved to block any escapees as Mitch fired a grenade at the front end of the closer of the two trucks. It shuddered, then exploded.

Jinks took up a position near the other truck as Jim made his way toward Rice. The Boomeroid had a large-caliber gun and was firing wildly despite the fact that she couldn't see them. "Dammit, not now..._where are you?_"

Jim grabbed hold of her suit as Mitch fired. The shot hit her power junction, causing the suit to flail wildly. Mitch then moved in and tried to hit her but it was hard to aim due to her erratic movements. Jim grasped her tighter and hit his jet verniers.

The loader suit was heavy, and slowed down Jim's hardsuit considerably. He gritted his teeth and pushed it as fast and as high as it would go, not caring when it showed signs of strain only fifteen feet above the ground. 

"Get out of the way; he's going to drop it!" Mitch cried.

At about twenty-three feet the suit's alarms began to sound. Jim kept going. At 41.01 feet it was ready to give. _Now or never..._

"Die, bitch!" He dropped Rice and his suit shot up further into the air, freed of the extra weight. Decelerating a bit, Jim held his position and watched Rice fall.

She hit the truck and crushed it, spraying fuel everywhere. The observers on the ground could see immediately that she was trying to fuse with the truck and the remains of the loading suit, and opened fire. The truck went up in smoke, leaving the first floor of the warehouse a single, immense backdraft.

Out of the corner of her eye, Shaine saw Rice's boyfriend limping away with one of the Boomeroid bodies. He was on fire, and moving slowly. She started shooting at him, followed by Mitch, but it did little to stop him.

Jim, Mitch, and Shaine converged upon the Boomeroid, Jim reaching him first and slashing down to cut him in two. Mitch's twin swords followed suit, ripping the Boomeroid into even more pieces.

Shaine held back.

Watching from a short distance away, she scanned the still-living body for a core. There was none, only singed synthetic and organic flesh surrounding a roasted human center. Jim fired several shots into the head, then turned and looked at her.

"What the hell are you doing, Shaine? You're hesitating?"

"It was human," she whispered.

He brought his rail gun up and aimed at her. "What the hell is your problem? This is no game. Did you think we'd always be killing Boomers? You're going to get us killed!"

Dully: "If you're going to kill me, do it. But make sure the body is delivered to Genom...you may as well go there yourself, too..."

"This is _not_ the time! Where's Jinks?" Both of them ignored Mitch.

"Aw, shit..." Jim shook his head. "You're pathetic." He turned away and started walking toward one of the overturned trucks.

Jinks's head shot up as she saw them coming. "Not now! Get everyone out of here."

Jim could see that she was setting up a large bomb...thermite, he guessed. 

"Come on!" Mitch said, vaulting into the air. Shaine numbly followed.

Jim took a step toward Jinks. "How long?"

"Ten, or less if I hit it with a laser from higher up. This will make sure the virus never gets loose again." She frowned. "What are you waiting for? _Go!_"

"What about the Boomers? Isn't that what we came for?"

"I have the data we need, and the only thing left is to make certain they're flash-baked beyond repair." The two Ravens launched themselves into the air, following Mitch and Shaine. Jinks fired a few last shots at Rice as she left. 

Several seconds later there was a deafening sound as the warehouse went up into a fireball.

"All right, Shaine. What was that back there?"

"Humanity," she said softly.

"And that's your excuse for hesitating? What if Jinks had been in danger back there? Or any of us? You're putting us at risk."

"So you refuse to follow my orders yet you expect me to follow yours without hesitation."

"I am following the most sensible course of action."

Jinks said nothing, but flew close to Shaine.

"If you can't do that, then someone else has to - or else we're all dead."

"We're all dead, James, it's just a matter of time before we find out." Jinks whispered.

"I don't care if it gets me killed...but if you ever pull that shit again I'll pull the trigger myself."

"Fine."

"I can see one of us dying because of our own mistakes...but because of your stupid idealism and double standards..."

"A double standard? Really?" There was a tiny note of humor in her voice. "I give you just as much respect as you give me."

"You've said it youself: you know who you want to kill."

"He may not have any Boomer parts but he's not human anymore!"

"Are any of us?" Jinks interjected.

"Excuses. He'll still bleed the same. This is a waste...you can't hold true morals! Making excuses for your actions..."

"It doesn't matter anymore. My blood or his...no difference. Shoot me or not. Let me at him or not. Just so long as he can't have me again...he'd enjoy that. He would waste that sacrifice..." She sounded cold and remote, a bit shaken perhaps but not feeling any true depth of emotion. "I'm not going to worry about it."

"If it doesn't matter then why are you here?"

"Why not be here?"

"Because it doesn't matter? Because you're risking the lives of those around you?"

The Nest's entryway loomed ahead of them. Jinks flew in, followed by Mitch.

"What are you going to do when we attack Genom outright? When people - not Boomers - are in the line of fire? People with families..."

"Yes, people with families and lives! Not like _us!_"

"Then I ask again, why are you here?"

"We threw away family and life," she whispered. It had the sound of an epiphany to it.

"And your point?" Jim drove on, not seeming to notice the change in tone.

"Maybe we both deserve to die."

"You'll get your chance at this rate." The pair followed Jinks and Mitch into the Nest. "You shouldn't be here if all you want is revenge."

"What do _you_ want?"

"What I want means nothing. It's what you want, and what you can have... If you want revenge, you'll have to sacrifice your morals. People will die. People died tonight. How many were there when the blast hit? And had _no clue_ as to what was happening? If you can't live with that, can't accept it, then why are you still here? Why even go out and fight?"

Jinks stepped forward. "I can answer that one. We do what we have to do not for ourselves, but for those who cannot do it themselves."

Jim sighed, shaking his head. "Fine. Just remember: I keep my promises." He began to walk away.

Jinks looked after him, raising her hand and letting the ports of her rail gun slide open. After a moment, she let it drop back to her side.


	7. Prey

Prey

Prey  
_By Harris, Mitch, Shaine, and Shatterclaw. Individual rating: R._

_The day before..._

James Harris made his way to the old downtown Chicago, a burned-out district which had been neglected in Genom's plan for rebuilding the city. He'd been there once or twice before, and the entombed 'first city' was the perfect place to find every sort of depravity imaginable.

_Perfect place to find some Boomeroids...maybe a few rogue Boomers. Maybe if I kill enough, those suicidal maniacs will finally take notice of me._

He soon saw a large Boomeroid, with more wires coming from its head than there were running through all of the telephone poles in the city. It was attacking a smaller Boomeroid who was clearly losing the fight. 

The larger one gripped the small one's arm with both hands and started twisting and pulling, apparently trying to rip the artificial limb off. Harris quickly and silently slipped past the pair, pulling the autoshot gun from his shoulder and aiming it at the larger Boomeroid's back.

It stopped, grunting. "Huuuh? What do you want?"

He fired a single shot into its chest at point blank, not saying a word. The Boomeroid exploded into a white, stringy mess which covered the walls of the alley.

"Th-thank you...how can I repay you?"

Harris impassively looked down at the second Boomeroid. "Information."

"Information? What kind of information?"

He described the woman in the Boomer store, the one that Kohl had let get away. "My friends said I should talk to her. Do you know her?"

"Oh, yeah, Jasmine Rice! Yeah, she's a street doc; if you can find the right parts she'll fix you up...needs all the spares she can get, never turns down a leg or an arm..."

"I see. Thank you."

"Sure... Anything else I can do for you?"

"Not unless you can tell me _why_ she wants all those parts."

"Well, that may cost you more."

"Oh?" He looked over at what was left of the other Boomeroid. "That wasn't enough? You can have what's left of him, then."

"Oh? I see... _Sure_, that's fine! The parts are for something she just called a 'bird.' Some new kind of Boomer."

"All right. Anything else you can tell me about them?"

"Yeah, I seen them...they look like some kind of big black bird, some of them normal sized, a few really big, and it looks like she just took a real bird and fused it with a Boomer...

"And then there's her boyfriend..."

"Do you know what she was doing with these new Boomers? Or where I can find one?"

"I don't know. She had some in her shop."

"Well...tell me about her boyfriend then."

"He was hosting - taking parts from a Boomer that was still alive - and the ADP got their hands on him. He killed five of theirs with an illegal heat cannon...they done blow him up but good. So she finds a way to get his body back, and she's remaking him, right? She asked me one time if I wanted to be his new eyes. Can you believe that?"

"In this day and age...yes."

The Boomeroid sighed as Harris began moving away. "Yeah, don't it beat all... Well, thanks for the body anyway."

"Thank you for your help."

On the corner stood three blue-green female Boomers and a man so short and fat he could only be human.

"Female companions, only twenty dollars an hour!" A man in a black trenchcoat walked up to the group and handed the man a wad of bills. The fat one counted it, then shoved it into a pocket and the other man took one of the mannequin-like Boomers back the way he came.

Harris watched quietly. 

"Finest females around! Safe, clean...you'd never even know they're not human..." Like a carnival barker from the turn of the century - 20th, not 21st - he continued his pitch. A woman in black leather approached the group and haggled with him over the price. Finally she paid him and left.

The fat man looked at the last Boomer. "Stay here. I'm going to get a beer. Don't move, you dumb slut..." He disappeared around the corner.

The female Boomer stood there mindlessly, her head tilting to the side. Harris sighed...this wasn't exactly the sort of Boomer he'd come there to hunt. 

Across the street, he saw a familiar face. Rice. She was pushing a shopping cart full of what looked like junk but was probably Boomer parts. She didn't seem to see him.

Pulling out a laser cutter, Rice sliced the Boomer's abdomen open swiftly but carefully. Harris's eyes widened slightly. _Here's my next target!_

Rice scooped out the Boomer's organs and stuffed them into the cart, then walked away as if nothing had happened. Harris followed quietly. She seemed to be in another world, pausing twice more to harvest Boomers but not showing any emotion or thought. Finally she arrived at a seemingly abandoned warehouse, entering through an old freight door.

Harris slung his shotgun back over his shoulder and replaced it with a silenced SOCOM.

Voices echoed from the walls: "Babe...I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Shut up already! Not like there's anywhere else to hide..."

Harris looked around, then decided to go up the stairs and listen from a catwalk above. The stairs were metal but he climbed them soundlessly.

"I know you can't see or hear well. That's why I got you these."

From his new vantage point, Harris could see the Frankenboomer from the previous night, as well as another body lying on a slab next to it. There were no 'bird' Boomers in sight, but there were covered tubes and cages which could easily hold one or more of the creatures.

"See, aren't they pretty?" She held up a pair of eyes she'd gouged from the prostitute Boomer's face after removing its internal organs. "A nice, deep green."

She smiled. "Soon we will be together...and we will reshape the world in our own image!"

Rice continued talking, sounding like a bad science fiction movie or a Star Trek plot from the Braga days, when the show had seemingly run out of creative talent. Harris listened with half an ear, more concerned about finding the new Boomers.

A horn honked just outside, and the rumble of an opening freight door filled the warehouse. A black limousine pulled up next to the Frankenboomer's slab, light shining off of the white sheets. Harris crept across the catwalk to get a better view.

Underneath a tarp he saw a half-covered cage. Inside was a raven Boomer which looked just like the mechanical ones used by Crimson and the others.

His eye was drawn away by the movement of a figure emerging from the limousine. It appeared to be a woman, but she was wearing a hooded cloak and he couldn't see her face.

"They found me, and the lab," Rice exploded. "I want more money. You never said anything about this shit!"

"Of course they did." Harris could hear a smile in the cloaked woman's voice. "They always find evil. It's their calling card."

"You said you could keep them off of our backs. What happened to that?"

"I did not count on you taking such great risks."

Harris crept toward the tarps, hoping their argument would draw their attention away from him.

"Are they ready?"

Underneath one tarp was a glass tube with a black, feathered body inside. It was vaguely human, but twisted... Harris listened carefully to the two women, quickly returning to his hiding place after that one brief glance.

"They're ready, but there are still a few glitches in the weapons. And there's no way I can make them just disappear on command!"

"Can they fight?"

"Of course. They've been tested against the battle mover, and they're still in one piece."

"That's not good enough," the cloaked woman snapped. "If you'd stop playing around with your boy toy and work harder we wouldn't have these problems!"

"Hah! If _you_ had given me more protection..."

Harris heard a faint scraping sound coming from further down the catwalk. A purple-grey Boomeroid emerged from the shadows, letting out a low moaning sound. Harris turned toward it, still firmly holding the silenced SOCOM, which he had just gotten that day, and noticing for the first time that it was automatic, with a laser sight built in. He smiled.

The Boomeroid began to open its mouth as it approached. A light glowed within...

_Shit! It's got a Boomer mouth gun... _Harris fired three rounds into its chest, hoping the gun wouldn't go off.

It did, slicing the far side of the catwalk into two. 

"What the..?" Rice looked up just as Harris dove toward a nearby window. More Boomeroids were charging toward him from the stairs and the floor below. Drawing his shotgun, he began to fire and they exploded like overripe fruit.

Watching the stairway out of the corner of his eye, he glanced out the window. It was open, but a long way off the ground... He backed up so that he could easily hit anything coming out of the it as well as the Boomeroids charging up the stairs.

The limousine drove away, with Rice chasing after it. Harris almost laughed, but then felt the floor of the catwalk shake. Three snakelike hands clawed at him from beneath the metal grating, trying to rip it out from under him. He aimed downward, jumping out of the way as he fired.

He managed to hit some of the Boomeroids, but the catwalk was too weak to take the shotgun blasts. Parts of it bent and tore free from the walls. Harris went back to the tarp-covered forms at the other end of the catwalk, then looked down out of the window.

Harris broke the tube containing the bird Boomer, and the Boomeroids running toward him stopped, shocked. The black, feathered lump flopped down onto the floor, covered by a thick, wet goo. It didn't seem to be moving - or even capable of moving...

It was about fifteen feet to the ground. _Maybe..._

_Yes. I can. _He grabbed the Boomer and set it on the windowsill, then turned to see what was happening inside the warehouse. Rice had a large laser gun and was wrestling it into position to fire at him._ Guess she gave up on the Shadow Lady..._

He backed up toward the sill again and fired four shots into the floor. Then he fell through the window, grabbing the bird Boomer and using its wings to slow his fall. It glided, somewhat, but the landing was still rough.

He could hear the laser gun go off, and Rice cursing God and her entire family. He rolled off of the Boomer, groaning, and got to his feet. 

_I wonder how those last shots went..._

He glanced up; there was a Boomeroid body hanging out of the window. _Pretty well, I guess._

"Hey there...you want a ride?" He turned. There was a Hispanic woman standing not too far away, her stance unthreatening and a smile upon her face.

He felt around...nothing broken. Lifting his auto shotgun, he looked at the car behind her. It was a Barracuda, probably from sometime in the late 70's.

"Who are you?"

"A friend." Her hair was the oddest damned thing, an auburn shade that couldn't be natural, with a white streak near her face.

He shook his head. "All right." He slung the shotgun over one shoulder and picked up the Boomer. She helped him place it in the backseat.

"I don't think we've met before. My name is Saki."

"I'm Jay." He fell into the backseat with the Boomer, then sat up. "Thanks." His hand was close to his Glock, just in case...

A gunshot sounded out, apparently coming from the direction of the warehouse. "Shit! Drive!"

Saki floored it. The car had to have something incredible under the hood; it was soon doing 175mph into the night. Harris turned to look at the Boomer, then at Saki. She seemed completely in control, almost calm...

"Why are you helping me?"

"Why does anyone do anything?"

He shrugged. "Because they want to... Well, thanks again."

"You're welcome." She smiled. "Who's your friend?"

He pulled out his Glock, aiming it at the Boomer as he looked it over. "Not a friend, but I'll see what's up once I get back..."

"Oh, I see. Where to? Mind if we grab some food first?"

"I'm in a bit of a hurry, here." He began giving her directions to an area close to the Nest, not entirely trusting this odd newcomer.

"I think I can do that."

"All right."

She laughed, turning down an alleyway, and pressed a button on the dashboard. "You know, we could have used you about two years earlier."

Harris, aiming the gun at her behind the seat, looked up in confusion. "Huh? Wait a minute. Who are you?"

"Oh, just one of the birds..."

"And my name?"

"James."

He shook his head. "Okaaay..."

"Of course, I don't really want to say it all."

He turned back to the Boomer lying next to him and aimed at it instead. He had no idea of what it might do... "So how did you find me?"

"I followed you. Thought maybe you could use a friend."

"I see."

"I'm sorry; I didn't know you were going out to hunt."

"I didn't know I was going to be falling out of a building," Harris replied, "So we're even."

"Well, at least you did it with style! But you owe me, now...a dinner out..."

"Of course." He sat back. _I wonder what the Suicide Squad are up to..._

"Good. Once we get your friend here locked down, maybe we can go find something."

"Oh? What did you have in mind?"

"Hm...I'm in the mood for Thai. Or at least what passes for Thai in this town."

"Ah...how about another night? I would like to resume the hunt...this same time...same day...next week..for you. And perhaps then you could let me drive." He smiled slightly. _Pleasant surprise, to find someone who can keep up with me outside of the suits..._

"Sure. Same day, same time..." Her voice was all too sweet. "But I drive."

"You drive there, I drive back. Deal?"

"We'll see."

///

Saki sat in her office thinking about the new nestlings. They'd just met with Jinks to prepare for the new mission; James was sullenly silent as usual, Mitch was overenthusiastic as usual, and Shaine...well, was Shaine. She seriously wondered whether the three of them would survive for long.

They needed the new blood - half of the team had been killed in the last sat strike - and their true loyalties could be assertained easily enough. Turning them into Ravens, however...that was the sticking point.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of a phone. "Mr. Erik Kohl to see you, Ms. Veldez."

_Kohl, here?_ "Send him in, please." _This could be an incredible opportunity...perhaps I can win Shaine over yet..._

"Good morning, Ms. Veldez."

"Herr Kohl...how nice to see you. This is quite unexpected!"

He smiled nervously. "Actually, I was hoping to speak with one of your employees...Sarah Liddell? I'm an old friend of the family. I heard she was just hired here...?"

It was Shaine's cover name. "Miss Liddell is on vacation right now. But of course, if you'd like me to pass on a message to her...?"

"Not a message, really...it's this." He held out a small, journal-like book. "I was hoping to return this to her. Her boyfriend was arrested by the FBI - quite unfortunate - and they seized everything in his apartment. Or nearly everything; a friend of mine managed to appropriate this. It would be rather damaging to her to have something so personal of hers found with the belongings of a suspected hacker."

"The FBI?"

"Yes...the fellow they caught, Stephen Shang, is suspected of being the hacker known as Tsen." He smiled again. "Tsen Shang...character from some old science fiction novels, a spymaster. Not too inventive if you ask me. At any rate, I don't think Sarah would be so foolish as to fall in with someone like that, or to boast about such things in her poetry," he nodded toward the book, "But I'm sure she'd like to have it back."

"I see." Her tone had gone icy. "Thank you."

He swiftly excused himself and left. Saki, stopping only to pick up her katana and some other weaponry, followed him back to his house and slipped inside unnoticed.

Inside, there were a bevy of women, very humanlike Boomers by her estimation - possibly Replicants. The first one she passed was turned away from her, playing a piano and singing, but from what she could tell the woman was truly exquisite as befitted Erik's wealth. Her tumbled curls were chocolate brown, her skin a perfect cream color, and her voice yet a third sort of confection:

"The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree  
"Sing all a green willow;  
"Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,  
"Sing willow, willow, willow..."

In the next room were several more, arguing quietly in what sounded like an obscure form of Greek. _Replicants. No other kind of Boomer has that sort of mental capacity, or that need for stimulation...Shakespeare, dead languages...I guess Evon Kohl wasn't kidding when he wrote that article._

Saki made her way toward the bedroom, where Erik sat by the foot of the bed. She decided upon a humane kill, swift and clean, Yakuza style. Just before she struck, she noticed a picture on the dresser, not more than three years old, of Erik and a short brunette who looked very much like Shaine. Lowering her katana, she slid the picture out of its frame and stuffed it into her inner suit.

The sound of the frame being taken apart set Erik into motion. He turned to face her, then hesitated for a while, watching her take the picture out. By the time she'd brought her sword up again, he had drawn a gun.

_Beretta Viper 14,_ she catalogued without thinking. _Old gun. Hm._ She struck it out of his hand easily before he could fire. 

He smiled, then laughed.

Saki threw three daggers at him, two at his legs and one at his arm. He let them hit, an odd but triumphant expression lighting up his face. _What in hell..._

She rushed him, swinging low at the last moment. The katana bit into his knees, winning a stronger reaction. He winced, as if he'd had the wind knocked out of him. He gasped as it cut into one kneecap, but didn't cry out or move.

He still remained relatively calm as she brought the katana back up to slice his head off. It landed on the floor with a _thump_.

_There is something _very_ wrong here._ Staring at the body, she could see Boomer parts within. The cross section of spinal cord revealed by her final blow appeared to be a fusion of human and Boomer.

_Replicant. Should have known._ She scowled and cut the body open from neck to waist, looking for a black box. The corpse was nearly identical to the readings Mitch had gotten off of the Replicants at Rice's shop.

Planting a grenade in the chest and attaching a fine wire to the pin, Saki cursed her luck. _If only I'd been able to give Shaine that gift...free her...maybe she would have been able to let go and fly._

Holding on to the pull wire, she went to the window and climbed out. Once she was outside, she pulled the pin and ran.

_Another time. He won't get away that easily._

///

As Kathy rushed out of the room, she could see a crowd already assembled near the rubble of the bedroom.

"Hey! _Hey_, lazy-asses! What are you doing?" She shoved her way past. Not too pretty, but they really ought to be reacting more maturely. _Oh, come on, Kathy. These are Reps we're talking about_... 

"All right, listen up! We've got to get this place in shape before the _polizei_ show up. Where's Shaine?"

"She went out with Erik." 

"Damn," Kathy breathed. "Cally and Cullyn, I need you to help with the...the..."

Cullyn nodded. "Yeah."

"The rest of you just look innocent. Bawl your eyes out if you have to. Run. Lock yourself in. Just don't admit to anything."

She barreled into the study. Disks, documents...they went into a false floor beneath the desk. No time to dispose of them properly. She rifled through the desk drawers...one envelope she didn't recognize, but if Erik didn't tell her about it it must not be important. Time to make _herself_ disappear...

And hope that Erik wasn't out there retiring Shaine when the police found him.

///

The trail led further back toward the undeveloped part of the city - that is, the part that Certain Others paid to have left alone. Not too far from Carter's house. The Shaine Replicant's eyes were huge and disbelieving...just like every other time before. _She never knew the city hid anything like this._

_She looks so much like Kathy..._

_I remember the first time I brought Kathy out here._ Erik's heart ached. This was always so hard. 

He leaned over to whisper in her ear: "I love you, Shaine."

"Huh? I love you too!" As if it were too obvious to have to bother to say. She was looking back at him now, and that was dangerous. He put an arm around her and steered her in a new direction.

Moments later her face lit up again. "It's beautiful!" she gasped. The lake lay meters below, completely uninhabited along that particular stretch. Yet another thing Genom paid for. He smiled, drawing his left arm away and replacing it with his right hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him and smiled. A single shot from the miniature EMP gun was all it took - Evon's failsafes at work - and she crumpled to the ground. 

Erik placed the gun on top of the body, then took out his cell phone. "I need Kathy out here."

"Um...this isn't a very good time." Callysta sounded even more breathless than usual.

"What kind of not-a-good-time?"

"The kind I don't wanna talk about over the phone? Kathy says don't finish up if you haven't already, and get down here fast."

"It's too late for that, Cally."

"Uh, all right...can you handle things out there by yourself?" _Sure, and go down there to face the ADP looking like I've just disposed of a body_...

"I'll be back when I can," he said forcefully, and hung up.

///

"Mitch! How ya doing?" Detective Jacob sped toward his partner. "I've got a new case for you, and I think you're really going to like this one."

"Hey, Jacob! ...Oh, really? What is it?"

"Did you hear about the explosion over at the Kohl residence?"

"What's up? The Santina Crime Family up to no good again?"

"Apparently a hit man of some kind went after Herr Kohl, but got a half-Boomer doppelganger instead...sliced it up with a sword of some kind and blew up half the house. Then when we got there, we found Kohl himself out back of the house with a dead Boomer that looks just like his niece.

"He says some woman shot the second Boomer, and we have no evidence to prove him wrong. No weapon anywhere near the crime scene, so it appears as if he couldn't have done it."

A wide smile slowly developed on Mitch's face.

"And wait til you hear the rest... We found some test results in his desk and it turns out that his niece...is not his niece."

"Be careful, Jacob! This Kohl is a slippery one."

"I know. I did some checking up on it before you got here."

"What did you find?"

"The test results pan out. Shaine has several recessive genes that her mother and putative father do not.

"But Erik does."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Jacob nodded. "She's not a minor anymore, so it doesn't legally matter. Though it does give some extra weight to that missing person report he filed."

"This is quite a family!"

"Tell me about it. So do you want to see the bodies before we talk to him?"

"Do we have anything to hold him on now?"

"No, but he's volunteered to stay until we run out of questions."

"The autopsies alone will take a day."

"Sure, but we can always call him back."

"You hope! Genom lawyers have a way with loopholes." Mitch scowled.

"He said he would, and refused a lawyer. I think that if he does have something to hide, it's buried deep enough that he believes we can't find it. And the Boomer doubles already look bad."

Mitch nodded. "All right. We've got nothing to ask until we have some evidence..."

Lying on two metal slabs in the morgue were a pair of human/Boomer hybrids. One was little more than charred lumps of meat, pieced together into the vague form of a body. The Shaine Replicant's skin was waxen and pale, but there was no apparent sign of any cause of death.

"Both of them appear to be half Boomer, half clone. No one here has seen anything like this before. In fact, under the Boomer Law they would be classified as human despite their origins. The laws on cloning have never been very solid, but I'll bet that a judge would technically rule either of these cases homicide."

"Well...we could at least hold him as an accessory to murder one. What do we have so far?"

"The male Boomer was killed by a sword stroke severing the neck and beheading it. Prior to death, wounds were inflicted to the legs and arms both by the murder weapon and by three daggers found at the scene. After it was beheaded, a grenade was planted in, near, or on the body.

"The second one appears to have been killed by a low-level EMP blast. The weapon may have been small enough to be concealed, but we didn't find anything near the scene. It's possible it could have been tossed into the lake, but to do that the killer would have had to have one amazing throwing arm.

"The only fingerprints on the body were Erik Kohl's, or those of another double, and they were on the shoulder area. As if he had his arm around her. No sign of any physical violence or abuse."

"Can you scan his DNA on either?"

"The Erik Boomer's DNA is identical to his, except for a laboratory watermark stating it originated here in Chicago. The traces from the fingerprints are exactly identical to his."

"We can hold him for the murder of the Shaine Replicant," Mitch mused.

"But we didn't find a weapon. And what was that word you used? Replicant?"

"He's our only suspect and his DNA is on everything."

"He claims to have seen a Hispanic woman with red hair, who shot the copy of Shaine. And not only was there not a weapon, but no discharge or trace signature was found on his hands."

"He has an unregistered Boomer. Two, in fact, and maybe more."

"Both of these were registered with a Genom research division. His own, certainly, but they were registered with Genom."

"Do you trust him?"

"No. But the records match up, and the genetic watermarks in these two are authentic."

"He was the only one around when she died." He frowned. "What type of EMP gun was used? And where?"

"It appears to have been a very low-level burst, aimed at the back of the neck." Jacob lifted the Boomer's head, brushing her hair back, to reveal a slightly scorched area on the back of the neck. "Kohl said that his group had developed a mini-EMP to deal with rogue Boomers of the same type but one of the guns was stolen from their labs last week."

"Someone killed the Replicant...and my money is on Kohl."

"You said it again...what is this word _Replicant_?"

"A term used by the MIT research group that first designed them." He handed Jacob a copy of the MIT Technical Review from July, 2036. "Page 56."

"Hm." Jacob skimmed the list of contributors. "Evon Kohl...his brother."

"Yeah. What do you think?"

The Boomer turned a page, stared at the technical specifications of the primitive Replicant. "This looks like what he was describing."

"Yeah?"

"It's supposedly such a hot project that only the Chairman of Genom can authorize distribution of information on it. Five labs working on them: here...Tokyo, Japan...Rochester, Michigan...Mainz, Germany...and one of the space stations."

"Mr. Kohl is quite high on Genom's food chain."

Jacob nodded. "He's got friends in at least three of those other four labs... The Rochester one is run by a Hase Kant, who visits him here every once in a while; Mainz is positively crawling with his supporters; and rumor has it he's close with Mason, who is the number two man in Tokyo. Very well connected indeed."

"I want the files on the heads of those labs."

"I'm already on it. I've got files on Kant and the director of her lab, plus the director of his own lab - an Evon Halas - and the other ones are on their way."

Mitch nodded and put on a pair of plastic gloves. The Erik Replicant was a mass of burned flesh, both Boomer and human. From what he could tell, it was very like the Replicants he'd killed in Rice's lab.

He found its black box and carefully removed it, noting that although it was as battered on the outside as was the body itself, the box appeared to be intact. Carrying it over to another table, he connected it to the morgue computer and began downloading its contents.

The unit and manufacturing information corresponded perfectly to what Detective Jacob had told him: it had been built in Chicago and was registered to Genom Chicago RDEC. The sensory records, however, were completely missing. A run of the recovery program turned up very little - test records from the lab - and there did not appear to be any evidence that further records had even existed. Furthermore, there were no signs of tampering...

_All right. Either he really knows his stuff, or else he was prepared for this well in advance...either way, it's not looking good._

He then took a laser scalpel and carefully removed the Shaine Replicant's black box. The EMP blast had erased everything, with no hope of recovery, and no other record left but her human brain.

"All right. Let's go talk to Mr. Kohl, but I want a lie detector scan on him."

///

Erik sat calmly while Jacob adjusted the readings on the polygraph. He was actually a bit curious as to what it would be like, having sent his Replicant doubles to deal with previous tests, and noted with some amusement that the device looked somewhat like the Voight-Kampff machine used in _Blade Runner._

"Mr. Kohl," Mitch said.

"And you are?"

"Lieutenant Mitch Wolfstone."

Erik nodded in response. 

Jacob finished adjusting a control and looked up from the device. "All right, Mitch, we're ready to go."

"What happened to those Boomers, Mr. Kohl?" Mitch looked him directly in the eye.

"I was out in the woods behind the house with the Shaine duplicate - Katerin, we called her - and I really don't know what happened after that." He paused, then signs of anguish began to creep into his expression. "You have no idea...to watch her _die_..."

He got control of himself again and continued. "The other one...well, I wasn't there. I can only assume that one of my enemies thought he or she had caught up with me."

"All right. What was the Shaine duplicate doing?"

"She wandered off ahead...these experimental Boomers have no attention span at all. She was completely hypnotized by the view."

"Go on."

Erik shook his head. "I've been over this several times now...I'm not sure if I can do it again. She was all I had left of my niece, and to see _that_..." He stopped himself, then shook his head. "I put too much into her. She was going to be just a safeguard, as my own duplicate was, but when Shaine disappeared I got...attached to her." He winced.

"Your Boomer has a strange burn mark on her neck. How did that happen?"

"She was shot. I saw some sort of blue glow...it looked like a burst from one of the mini-EMP guns the lab uses to put down rogue Replicants. I had to learn to use one, being in charge of the research, but I've never liked them." _Give me my Viper 14 any day..._

"So you weren't alone."

"No." He stopped again. "Please, Lieutenant..."

"Who else was there?"

His voice was weary. "There was no one on the property but myself, my Boomers, and the woman I described to Lieutenant Jacob."

"Please describe her for me."

"She looked Hispanic, with reddish hair. The light wasn't too good out there; perhaps it was brown. But there was a pale streak..." He brought two fingers up and made a slashing gesture toward his own hair.

_Saki! Could she have done this? _"Have you ever seen her before?"

"It's possible. She looked a bit familiar, but I don't want to go making false accusations." 

_There. Half irrelevance and half speculation. Ought to take care of that._

"The Detective mentioned earlier you'd want to know about the Replicants themselves...?"

"Yes. Please."

"They were a pet project of my brother's. Both human and Boomer. Unfortunately that research was cut off prematurely, but five Genom labs are attempting to continue his work." He glared darkly at Mitch. "By the Boomer Law, this was a double homicide..."

"Yes, I know, and we have two suspects."

"Really. Who?"

"Did anyone else see this woman?"

"I don't know."

"The other Boomers at the house didn't see anything," Jacob answered.

"Who are your two suspects, Lieutenant? That list sounds too short to me."

"Come, Mr. Kohl. You were the only one to see the assailant?"

His tone turned hostile. "No friend of mine goes into those woods unless I know it. And no Boomer ever goes there without me. Have you considered that some competitor of mine, at one of the five Replicant research centers, might be behind this?"

"Who would you add to the list?"

"Genom Mainz is controlled by a friend of an old enemy. And Chairman Rosenkreutz favors Ms. Carter over me. But it could be anyone. The five labs are in direct competition, and the Chairman has never tolerated failure."

"Why would he - or the others - risk murder?"

"We are in a race and the winner, I think, will be determined half by luck and half by skill. Someone may have decided to try improving his luck. Beside that, I have made enemies through my other projects. President Steiner of Genom Munich would love to see me dead."

"I'm new to corporate politics, Mr. Kohl...why would they want to see you dead?"

Erik smiled darkly. "This wasn't the first attempt on my life. That's why I created the Replicant of myself."

"Very smart of you, but why?"

He shrugged. "To gain a lead over Genom Chicago in research...to exact revenge for old grievances...

"Fraulein Kant and I embarrassed Steiner ten years ago, for one thing, and I can think of a half dozen other incidents."

"So by killing you they get revenge, and more power."

"Exactly - though I don't know why they would stop at Katerin if they saw me there, too. Perhaps they thought I was another Boomer and she wasn't."

"Why not kill both of you to be sure?"

"We're talking about a global corporation; news can travel slowly. Especially when factions get in the way of business. Perhaps they knew that Shaine was here, but hadn't yet learned of her disappearance."

He shrugged. "Of course, this is all just speculation."

"But they see you and a woman alone, and they kill her? Come, now!"

"But a grieving man will not work as hard as someone who has just received a promotion in the wake of a rival's loss. Think of that.

"Perhaps our assassin had a change of plans..."

Mitch nodded. "I understand."

///

His head still reeling, Mitch left ADP headquarters and went back to the Nest. Harris stood outside, smoking.

"What's eating you, labcoat?"

_I can't tell _him_! Should I tell Crimson? ...Should I tell anyone...?_

"Rough day at work," he finally responded, and passed Harris without another word.


	8. Full Circle

Full Circle

Full Circle  
_By Harris, Mitch, Shaine, and Shatterclaw. Individual rating: R._

James Harris shook his head as Mitch passed. _Bunch of suicidal maniacs...he'd better not wind up like the girl..._

There was a rumble of thunder, and large, thick drops of rain began to fall. _Damn._ He took one last puff off of the cigarette and then flicked it away, stepping inside.

The base was empty; most were away preparing for the Antarctica mission. Mitch was somewhere around, though Jim didn't particularly want him for company, and he thought Shaine was still inside. The rest - even Belladonna - had left early.

Having nothing better to do, Jim headed for the rec room. Inside, Shaine was sprawled out on the couch. Some sort of food in a foil wrapper lay upon her stomach, and she was staring mindlessly at the television. It was an old rerun of _Star Trek: Ghidorah_ - the one where Shatterclaw and Yeoman Cast-No-Shadow defused Kyria's plot to destroy the ship and make off with McLaughlin's android.

He looked at the screen with disgust. "I remember that episode...did it ever suck!"

"_Hey!_ I will have you know that any episode with Cast-No-Shadow in it is perfect!" Her tone grew reverent. "And Shatterclaw _rocks_."

She looked at him sideways. "But then I suppose you're a Blackfire fan, huh?"

"No, I'm an old Trekkie...this shit is just disgusting! Magic? Prophecy? Androids around every corner? Huh!"

Shaine rolled her eyes. "I take it from that last one that you don't like _Mariner_ either?"

"Older than that..."

"Geez, I ought to get you together with my ex, then...he says that Star Trek died the day Data got married..."

"No, Star Trek went to hell with the coming of Voyager. This...this shit is just wrong..."

"Well of course Braga was a smeghead, but these new writers know what they're doing." She gave him a sideways grin. "Y'know, I used to work for Metacreations-Paramount..."

"Yeah, uh-huh, keep telling yourself that...I'll stick with my old collection, thank you."

"I met the Captain Calhoun Boomer once," she added wistfully.

Harris shook his head, then walked over to the television. "Dammit, this needs to go!"

"_Hey!_" Shaine vaulted off of the couch. 

Jim turned. "Is there a problem...?"

"All right, Mister Bloodbath and Beyond, we've got to get one thing straight here."

"And what's that?"

"I was here first, and I am watching Star Trek. If you don't like that, you can go elsewhere."

He smiled slightly, stepping past her and taking a seat on the couch.

"Thank you." She sat back down, stretching out as well as she could without touching him, and took a large bite of her cold pizza.

Jim took two objects from his coat: one appeared to be a DVD box and the other was his Desert Eagle. Shaine raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

He aimed the loaded gun at the TV. "Let's get something straight: we're both here to relax. You can either put this DVD in, or the television gets it. Either way, I'm not watching another minute of that loser on the tube...hell, I should pull the trigger now just for the idea that I'd be ridding the world of the misery of seeing that fop..."

A low growl sounded in Shaine's throat at the very idea that such a thing could be suggested, but she then grabbed the remote and switched it over to input from the DVD player.

"Fine. But I'm watching _Blade Runner_ later and I don't want any arguments on that."

Jim smiled slightly. "That's all right with me..."

"Good."

"I think you might like this one, though."

"Inner Light...TNG...yeah, I've seen it. Pretty good for an episode with no appreciable part for Data."

"Yeah, I thought you might've...but if we're watching reruns, this is it."

Shaine arched her back so that she could reach beyond her head and grab the bag of Jelly Bellys on the end table. Sliding back into a more comfortable position, she saw that Jim still had his gun trained on the screen, and was trying to hand her the box.

"Ohhh, no. Your DVD, you get up."

He sighed. "All right. Play it or the TV dies."

She shoved some jelly beans in her mouth and got up. "We gotta get something better worked out here. I'm not Suzie Housewife, you know."

The DVD started playing. "Thank you." Jim reholstered his gun.

"Dear gods...politeness!" She blinked in mock surprise. "Bitte."

"Bitte?"

"You're welcome," she translated, overenunciating.

"Oh."

Shaine sat down again, her arms crossed. Minutes later, a door slammed. She jumped, then relaxed once she heard the heavy footsteps of another person in the Nest. She began to gather up the jelly beans she'd spilled, then reverently intoned, "God made dirt and dirt don't hurt," shoving the entire handful in her mouth at once.

Jim watched her, smiling slightly, then turned back to the screen.

One of the ravens flew into the room, landing just above and to the left of Shaine's shoulder. It stared at both of them with glassy eyes, then looked at Shaine and tried to grab the jelly beans.

"Hey!" Shaine pulled the bag away, closing it tightly. "Those things cost four bucks a pound! Get yer own!"

"_Caw!_" It flapped its wings.

Jim looked over with a dark expression on his face. He pulled his DE back out, aiming at it... "Damn it, what do I have to do to get peace and quiet around here?" _Big gun, big bird mess...heh..._

"_Quit_ it, Morrigan!" Shaine's head came up suddenly as she realized what he was about to do. "Hey, _hey!_ You are not going to shoot my bird!"

"And why not?"

Morrigan looked at Jim curiously, then hop-stepped closer to Shaine.

"Caw, _caw!_"

"I won't let him hurt you," she said resolutely, then reluctantly surrendered a few jelly beans. 

Jim sighed, bringing the clip out of his gun and reaching into his coat pocket for a fully loaded one. Aiming it at the bird's head he fired three shots, all of them loud as hell - but only blanks.

Shaine yelped in surprise and began swearing in German as the bird flapped around the room, cawing its head off.

"All right. There are four shots left; one is live. Get the bird out of here...or we find out if it can handle the next three..."

"What do I look like, an animal trainer? I can't exactly tell it what to do!"

"Well, then...time for some roulette."

The bird landed on the pool table, stumbling and flapping its wings. Shaine winced and threw herself at Jim, trying to deflect his aim.

_Oh, hell...what am I doing? He's probably going to shoot _me_ for this!_

The bird flapped out of the room. Jim turned without thinking, grabbing her shirt collar and pulling her to the floor. She brought her arms up feebly to try to bat him away, but it was useless.

He aimed the gun at her head. 

"Aigh!" she gasped. "...Is that your answer to everything? Just shoot it?"

"Yes." He fired the last four shots at her, then let go in disgust.

Jim got to his feet and walked to the pool table as she lay there gasping. _Saved by stupidity..."Never take anybody's word about whether a gun is loaded..."_

He put the gun away. "Are you looking for death? Is that it?"

"I'm looking for an answer. If death is it, then yes."

He sighed. "You know, we can keep this game up as long as you want..."

_There's another game I'd enjoy more, with him... --Damn it, what are you thinking? Did your brains come loose when he tossed you down here like that? Shut up, shut up, shutup! _She dragged herself up onto her knees and looked up at him with her head slightly tilted, her stomach beginning to turn... _He's not just another frat boy or intern. Screwing around with them was all right, but doing this could get you killed, girl..._

He stood there watching her, silent for a while, then said, "If I wanted you or your bird dead then you would be."

She looked away suddenly and went back to the couch. Picking up her things, she began to walk out.

"Wait. Come here."

She turned around, then dumped her things back onto the table and slowly walked toward him.

"All right. Here's the deal." He reached behind his back, pulling out a silenced SOCOM and handing it to her. "We can either end this nonsense, or you can kill me. Your choice. I've had enough of this."

Shaine desperately wanted to just leave and keep going until she forgot all of it, but at the same time she couldn't take her eyes off of him. The gun hung feebly from her right hand where he had mistakenly placed it.

She set it down on the pool table. "Du darfst mein Bestrafer sein, ja?" _You're my jailer, huh?_

She stared at him determinedly, then turned back toward the door. "Stop I want an actual response."

She turned again as if slapped. 

"That gun's too heavy for me. And yes, I know you didn't understand what I said...maybe next time we can meet each other halfway?"

He stepped closer to her, slightly confused. "Halfway?"

"As in, something a bit more...understanding? Please and thank you? That was a start..."

"All right then. No more games.

"Now, then... There has to be something you want to say to my face. I think it's better to let it out now."

"There'll be polar bears in the Black Forest before I translate for you. Learn German, though, and maybe I'll repeat myself..."

A softer note crept into her voice. "Just for you..."

He smiled slightly. "Just for me, eh?"

She smiled back. "Most men I don't give a second chance."

"I see..."

"And we're on what...three or four, now?"

"More like five."

"Well, who's counting?"

"Then why me?"

She shrugged. "If I knew that, I'd probably be on my way to a shrink to get it fixed, ja? Last time a man came at me like that, I let him have it backhanded...left marks from my rings on his cheek. Had to hurt."

"That would not have been in your best interest."

She held up her right hand; there was only the emerald-and-gold ring her mother had worn. She never took that one off. "I would have been gentle." She looked almost amused.

Jim placed a hand on his Desert Eagle again. "This wouldn't have been, when I backhanded you back..."

She smiled. "Then I guess it's a good thing I have some sense of restraint."

"Exactly. Mess with a snake long enough and you get bitten..."

A look of bewilderment appeared on Shaine's face. She blinked. "Wh...what? You knew that I--"

"That you what?"

She turned pale. _Me and my big mouth...must've been a coincedence; he doesn't know..._

"I..."

"That you _what_? Tell me!"

_I can't tell him...what do I do?_ She turned around, lifting her shirt a bit so that he could see her tattoo. Jim stared at the image, a snake biting its own tail, and took her by the arm. He turned her around, a glimmer of compassion in his eyes. She was trembling. "What's wrong?"

She could only look up at him, finally truly frightened. _I can't tell him about what I said...can't tell him what the tattoo means...hell, it's lucky he doesn't seem to know any more about X-Files than he does about German..._ She shook her head.

"No, please tell me."

At a loss for words, she let her mouth open slightly. Her lower lip trembled as if she were unable to speak. "I..."

She swallowed nervously. "Not even my parents knew about this," she began. "To suddenly have someone guess at it..it's so odd... And I've had enough surprises to last a lifetime, these past few weeks!"

"That's nothing to be afraid of."

"And normal people don't exactly take well to getting jerked around like this.

"First him, now this..." she muttered.

"Well, no one ever said any of us were normal."

She laughed bitterly at that. Jim realized he was still holding Shaine's arm, and let go. She pulled back quickly. "So. May I leave now?"

"Do you want to leave?"

There was an odd look in her eyes. She shook her head.

"I'm not stopping you..."

"This is going to sound cheesy but I don't want to be left alone... Hate being left alone..."

Jim walked to the couch and sat down again. "Well, I'm not leaving. I came here to relax, and eventually I will."

Shaine found her CD player among the items on the table, put on the headphones and started it up. From the loud thumps emitted, it could have been practically any rap album ever made. Walking over to a chair, she sat down and closed her eyes.

Jim watched her. He shook his head. _I have no idea what to think of you..._ He grabbed the remote.

The television came on first, and there was a lag before the DVD would start. It was the news, and they were showing shots of a house with one wall missing. The reporter mentioned a familiar name: _Erik Kohl..._

Jim hit Shaine with a pillow to get her attention. She looked up. "What now, Harris?"

Noticing what was on the screen, she tore her headphones off. "Did they get him?" she asked, as casually as if she were inquiring about the four day forecast.

"Hasn't said yet."

Another shot of the reporter, this time she was talking to Erik. He smiled darkly, repeating the same lines he'd used on Mitch not too long before.

There was a brown-haired woman in the background, her green eyes full of concern.

_"OHMYGAWD!"_

Shaine shook her head in disbelief. "No..."

"He's the one you want dead, right?"

"That was my mother," she gasped.

"Huh? Your mom?"

"She's dead!"

"_Who_ was your mom?"

"No, it's _impossible!_ That's just impossible! She's been dead for three years!" She brought one fist up near her chin, resting it on her other arm, and closed her eyes. 

Jim walked over to Shaine, kneeling next to her. "Hey...who was your mom?"

Shaine clenched and unclenched the fist, tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. "She can't be there," she whispered. 

Jim sighed and took her by the arm, trying to get her attention. Shaine made a halfhearted attempt to wrench her arm away, but failed. She started to cry.

"Hey, snap out of it! You all right?"

"That woman in the background...that was my mother..."

He shook her arm. "Snap out of it. What do you mean that was your mother?"

The slamming of a door cut off her response. Saki stormed past the rec room but didn't slow down or acknowledge their presence. Jim walked to the doorway and looked down the hall at her; Shaine followed hesitantly.

Coming from the same direction was Crimson.

"Hello? Anyone home?"

"You're back..."

"I had a great trip," Crimson told him.

"I'll bet."

Mitch, hearing the voices, followed Crimson into the rec room. The Ravens' leader had a duffel bag over one shoulder and wore his leather business trenchcoat. "Did I miss anything?"

Jim shook his head.

"That bad, Harris?"

"Someone tried to kill my uncle and we've _got_ to go back and finish the job," Shaine said breathlessly, her words beginning to run together. "He has my mother there!"

"Do you know who tried to kill him? And do you know it really is your mother?"

"How the hell should I know! I just saw her on the news...but it can't be real; she died three years ago."

Mitch noticed that her eyes were red and the skin around them puffy and tear-stained. "Are you all right, Shaine?"

"_Am I all right?_ What fucking planet have you been on?"

_She's acting like a child. I don't know what her problem is...but then I've never understood those rollercoaster emotions of hers..._

"Most likely it's some sort of trick...but if it is her, Shaine, we'll make sure she's safe."

"If it's her I don't want to have anything to do with her."

"Cool your jets. What's your problem?"

She glared at Mitch. "Just stay out of this, labcoat."

"Mitch, is anyone else in the Nest right now?"

"Yeah, Saki's in the danger room." He stopped. "But I have to talk to you about something...

"It's about Saki..."

"Shaine, can you handle going out now?"

"Yeah. Sure."

"Harris, you and Shaine get suited up. We'll meet you there." 

Once the other two had left, Crimson led Mitch down the hall and stopped outside the command room. "Okay. What's going on with Saki?"

"The ADP are looking for her."

"For what?"

"It's a mess!"

"Okay, wait. Start at the beginning...what exactly happened?"

"Erik Kohl has a Boomer double of himself."

Crimson nodded. "That's normal for Genom higher-ups."

"Saki was seen leaving his house after it exploded with the doppelganger inside, already killed by someone with a sword. And it gets worse."

"Is it a proof-positive ID? Can they place a face with the name?"

"Kohl never mentioned her name, but he described her pretty well and accused her of killing a Replicant double of Shaine."

"He's accused Saki of murder?"

"No real evidence but his word."

"His word...okay..."

"So he says she killed the double of him and a Replicant of Shaine."

"A what?"

"A Replicant. They're a new subclass of Boomer with human organs and a half-human brain. Are you familiar with them?"

"Yes, I know that Genom was working on that type, but they're illegal. The government put a stop to it because they were using genetic material from dead bodies and aborted fetuses...rather gruesome even when they did obtain permission from a next-of-kin. Rumor has it they even went so far as cloning without permission. None were ever registered from Chicago or other parts of Illinois."

"Well, I've got one back in the lab with a small EMP burn on the back of the neck and it looks like Shaine."

"So Saki killed this Boomer... And he had at least three Replicants, his own double and then the two of her and her mother... the twisted bastard... Okay, Mitch, I think I see what's going on. What else?"

"Part of the house was blown up by a grenade planted by the Erik double's body."

Crimson shook his head. "Figures. Saki has a habit of slightly overreacting to things."

"I'm sorry, Crim. I barely know her."

"She finds out that Kohl outdid her plan to off him by having this Boomer lookalike... She's pissed and needs to make sure the site is clean, so she uses a thermite grenade gotten from the black market - you can check the casing fragments; they're going to be traceable to a vendor in the undercity..."

Mitch frowned. "Something tells me there is more than meets the eye with Erik Kohl..."

"Pesos to dollars you're right. You'll most likely find the house's surveillance tapes are gone."

"What would you say if I told you that I think Mr. Kohl is not entirely human?"

"Saki was very good at her old life," Crimson mused, his eyes focused on nothing. Then he heard Mitch's question. "It wouldn't come as a complete surprise. There have been rumors of Genom turning their top people into Boomers so they're more easily controlled. But do you have proof that he's not all human?" Crimson cut himself off. "Or not human in the dictionary sense...no one working for Genom can be called truly human in the first place..."

"It's just a hunch. He passed a lie detector test with no help at all. I know he was lying and my partner adjusted the polygraph while I watched. How could a human do that?"

"There are a few ways. Meditation, many of the Middle Eastern arts...some form of strict mind control...

"Or he believes he is telling the truth.

"But I agree; he was lying to your face."

"The thing was set to catch even the slightest change in pupil dilation."

"Then he had another way of getting around it." Crimson shook his head. "We'll talk about it later. Let's suit up."

///

"We're taking the Raven Wing 3," Crimson said as he strode into the hangar.

Over a private link, he added, "I know how you feel, Shaine. Understand that, for your own good, you should be staying here."

"Do you think I _could_ stay here? There's no way in hell I'm not going with you."

"I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt... Don't do anything foolish."

Crimson walked up the jet's ramp, Mitch and Shaine following and Jim entering last. The door closed behind Jim and the jet took off.

Jim, sitting behind Mitch, looked at the back of the ADP officer's head. _Such a good shot...a pity to waste the opportunity. Ah well._

Seven of the artificial ravens sat on a cagelike perch. "We'll use the birds for recon," Crimson said, "Then go in with cloaks on. The first mission is to find Kathy, determine whether she is human or Boomer. Then we find Mr. Kohl. Any other person or Boomer will be handled with caution, avoided if possible. They will be killed only if they try to stop us. Hugo, if we're not out of the house in ten minutes, cut loose and level it."

"Sure, Boss. Been nice working with ya. T minus five to target..."

Crimson pulled a lever and the back door of the Wing opened. The birds flew out, cawing raucously as they went.

He looked at Jim. "Time to fly."

It was a short drop to ground level, and the Ravens could already see a view of the house in their heads-up display. 

"There are eight possible Boomers in the house, including the target. Erik does not seem to be there, or he is in a room with no windows. The eight Boomers are giving off near-human heat readings so be warned."

A ninth Boomer came onto the screen, walking around the house. She had just come in from the garden.

"Well...looks like we have nine Replicants. Harris, your job is to find Erik if he's here."

Jim cloaked and silently flew toward the house.

"How do you want to do this, Crim?" Mitch asked.

"Plain and simple. You and Shaine find this Kathy and bring her back no matter what kind of readings you get from her."

"No problem! Ready, Freefall?"

The Ravens made their way down to the ground and Jim circled around to the screen door in the back, which had been left open by the ninth Replicant. Shaine began peering into the windows.

The house was large for one person - one human person - with small bushes and a few shade trees outside. There were two floors, with most of the large windows on the ground floor. Jim began systematically searching each room, careful not to get too close to any of the Replicants.

Passing beneath an open window, Shaine heard two women talking.

"Oh, you'll get your turn," Kathy said.

"That's what I'm hoping!" The second one laughed.

Shaine stopped, listening intently.

"But none of the others has lasted more than four months!" She sounded puzzled.

"Freefall, you ready?" Mitch repeated.

"I've _been_ ready."

"Cool it! We've got work to do."

"Get over here; I think I hear her." Shaine gritted her teeth. _Get a clue, labcoat...no matter how many buddies you lost to Genom, you don't know what it's like to be Kohl._

Hitting her jet verniers, she flew up to the window. Mitch soon followed. "That's her."

Mitch activated a voice link to Crimson. "We have two females in a second story room; one is our target." 

"Freefall, can you take her from the house without alerting the others?"

"If we could separate her from the other one..." The second Boomer was short and blonde, looked almost like Stevie Nicks. Shaine didn't recognize her. _Probably a Replicant, probably pretty damned clever...wonder how we could get her out of the room without spooking the other away too..._

Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft report of Mitch's stun gun. The two Boomers slumped down in their chairs, unconscious.

"Huh? I thought we weren't supposed to let them know we're here!"

"You have any better ideas?"

"Well, it's not like he's not going to have some clue who did this..." She broke the window and flew through; it was a tight fit but not too difficult. 

Shaine scanned the Boomers. "Both Replicants." Lifting Kathy first, she passed them through the window to Mitch and then climbed back out. Then she took Kathy back. "Let's get her back to the Wing."

"We've got Kathy."

"Understood," Crimson said. He kicked open the front door, letting the ravens into the house.

"Erik's not here," Jim said.

"Acknowledged, Harris. Meet us back at the Wing." The three Ravens at the front of their house hit their jet verniers.

Once back in the Wing, they strapped Kathy and the second Replicant into their seats. Before long, the ravens had returned, carrying small objects pilfered from the house.

Among the objects were a few gun shell casings and a miniature EMP gun.

"What?" Mitch yelped. "Let me see that gun!"

"Easy, Mitch. We'll look it over at the base, then turn it over to the ADP if it'd be of any use to them."

"One step closer..."

Crimson looked at Kathy, then the blonde. "It may take many more steps to nail him...

"Hugo?"

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Isn't there a lake nearby?"

"Yeah, Boss, not too far. Why?"

"Scan it. Let's see if our dear friend has left us any surprises, hm?"

"If I have to take him apart one piece at a time," Mitch muttered, "So be it!"

Shaine shivered. "Don't talk about him like he's a Boomer...you're creeping me out."

"So you want to pick his bones clean, Mitch?" Crimson grinned and walked over to a workstation.

"I'm a forensic scientist. What do you expect?"

"Has the ADP dredged the lake yet?"

"No, that and the woods are scheduled for tomorrow. I'll copy the report for you after we get back from Antarctica." 

"Well, then...check the lake."

"Right!"

Both men worked at the console for a few moments, then Crimson frowned. "There seems to be a large concentration of bodies down there...any guesses as to what kind? 

"Hugo, best speed back to the base...I want to question Miss Kathy."

The pilot's black hardsuit just nodded.


	9. Deus ex Machina

Deus ex Machina  
_By Harris, Mitch, Shaine, and Shatterclaw. Individual rating: R._

In a secured room far beneath the bedrock of Chicago, three figures in black hardsuits sat with a visitor.

Kathy watched from beneath eyelids raised just enough to reveal a slit of light. The room was filled with smoke, and patterns of light shaped like birds flashed through it. Rather disorienting, to tell the truth. She feigned grogginess, trying to put off dealing with them for as long as she could.

"Ms. Kohl, wake up..."

"I'm awake." She opened her eyes the rest of the way.

"Question and answer time!" Mitch said with great relish.

"You were believed dead." Crimson continued. "Awake is a great elevation of position, now... Tell me, Ms. Kohl, how did you come to be in Chicago?"

"Dead?" She laughed softly. "Oh, yes...her.

"I was born here; didn't you know that?"

"So you know you are a Boomer. What do you do for Mr. Kohl?"

She shrugged. "Not much. Cook, clean...you know the drill."

"No, do tell us: what is the drill in the Kohl household?"

"I have eight unruly daughters to take care of. That's nearly all I have time for."

"They aren't daughters. They're Boomers."

Kathy smiled. "No difference."

"Difference: I can take a Boomer apart and no one will care; if I did that to a human, it would be murder. And if _you_ were destroyed, it wouldn't matter. What do you know about Mr. Kohl?"

"What do you want to know?"

"His brother's daughter has gone missing," Crimson said. "Did he kill her?"

"She's dead?" Kathy whispered incredulously.

"Yes, we found her body last night. Two gunshot wounds with a gun that was registered as his."

"Oh, God..."

"What do you know about that?"

"He kills Boomers all the time." Mitch added. "What's to stop him from killing you?"

"And on the next morning, we find him murdering a half-human Boomer lookalike of his 'beloved' Shaine."

Kathy looked up sharply. "Counting rogues and defectives, he goes through a Boomer every three weeks. Yet in two and a half years there has only been one of me."

"Killing Boomers is legal. Killing the human was not. And we'll see if that changes, Ms. Kohl."

"He was with me all last night; he couldn't have killed anyone then if that's when it was."

"What was he doing?"

She smiled elusively, as if hinting he ought to know exactly what Erik was doing. _Let them think what they want to think...it may draw their attention away from more dangerous lines of inquiry..._

"He was complaining about the new Shaine Boomer. I tried to tell him she could be fixed but he didn't want to listen."

"He has duplicates of himself; how would you know it was the real him?"

"I know." She paused.

"Complaining about the new Shaine Boomer... Clarify. What was he complaining about?"

"Why doesn't he kill _you?_" Mitch interjected.

Ignoring both questions, she said what she'd been about to say before they cut her off: "Every time he looks at me I can see how much he regrets letting Kathleen O'Shea go. Just letting his brother have her..."

"So you admit he has killed Kathleen O'Shea Kohl? Do you have proof of this?"

"I never said that. All I've ever heard is that she put a kitchen knife through her chest after Evon disappeared."

"Yes...how easy it must have been, for a small woman like her to break two of her own ribs, then push the knife further in to the heart and bleed to death."

"A human can do it. And not have to break the ribs, either. Are you familiar with a television show called _Millennium_?"

"No, I don't watch too much TV," Mitch said.

She smiled again. "There was one episode, about a woman who killed her children, then stabbed herself four times through the heart." Her tone was admiring, almost as if she held the character up as a role model. "It's believable enough."

"This is not television," Crimson argued.

"Humans do incredible things when pushed far enough."

"Nor is Erik a Frank Black type..."

"I'd say Erik is more like Peter Watts. He believed he knew what was best for the man placed in his care, and had dreams for his family which were never realized..."

"No one asked. What of Evon Kohl?"

"Evon I don't know much about. He was before my time, I gather."

"How did he disappear?"

She shrugged. "He went out the day before Shaine's birthday and never came back."

"And who were the other Boomers in the house?"

"Well...Stevie, the one I was with, has had medical training. Cullyn handles the mechanical things around the house; Sandra and Eve do regular maintenance - stopped drains and gutters, that sort of thing. And then there's Eleanor, Cally, Sass, and Andrea. They help me."

"And the ninth one?" Mitch stared at her intently.

"A ninth Boomer? Other than me?" She blinked. "There is none."

"What do those last four help you with?"

"Cooking, cleaning...I said that before, didn't I?"

"What do you know about Shaine Kohl, the human?"

"Not much."

"And where is Erik now?"

"I think he went back to work."

"You do know you are next to worthless?"

She just smiled yet again, with a martyrlike expression on her face.

"What does Kohl know of us?"

"Enough."

"Really? Good. He may be worthy yet."

_Worthy for what? What in hell are they planning...?_

"It's a shame that we will have to send him your last words." Crimson placed one armored fist next to her head.

"Mmm...very well." She leaned forward. "Then let it be _I love you..._"

Crimson fired his stunner. "No, it won't."

Shaine stood quickly. "Why don't you just shoot her!"

"She may still have some useful information. We don't have a Rep drop in on us every day."

"Then we hack it out of her core. Or use the other one. I'm not going to put up with this!"

"In fact...the last Rep we did have was in pieces. But you're right; we will download her core."

"What? When was that?"

"Four months ago."

"Another of _his_?"

"We found one wandering the streets, murdering humans left and right... I'm not entirely sure where it came from and the face had been fried off, but the body was too damned close not to be. If I had to guess, I'd say it was either a copy of you or her.

"Do you want the house blown up?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

"Yes."

Shaine shook her head. "I think you know."

"That's not the same." He pulled out a cell phone. "Hello, this is U.S. Marshall Melendez. We have a houseful of illegal Boomers, Replicant subtype. Seven of them. I want them confiscated immediately; the address is 1013 Lake, in Chicago."

Her eyebrow lifted as he finished speaking and hung up.

"They're contraband in the U.S., even for Genom. And the fact that they pass for his brother's wife and child?"

"And in Germany?"

"I can check into that."

_I already know the answer to that...everything pro-Boomer is legal in the West; the techno-Nazis have taken over. And they'll let you do whatever you want in the East but anything with so much as one fingernail replaced with synthetics is considered Boomer and has no legal rights...not even the right to live..._

"Check out Genom Rochester, too. I know he has friends there."

"I know. That's been looked into already.

"After we reap the Boomer dry, I want to send her back to him as a shell."

Shaine smiled.

"Maybe something along the lines of her cawing all of the time, and repeating some of what happened here..." He picked up the phone again. "Jinks, send the Stevie Boomer to Erik's office...with a meltdown switch. The kind Carter uses all the time... No, just cawing, and maybe a few other bird noises. ...Yes, like the time Bell fed her raven the bean deluxe from Taco King... Yes, yes, Bell, have fun..."

He looked over at Shaine. "She needs to cut her losses every now and again...which I should cover... Any ideas of what else we can torment him with?"

Shaine shook her head, suitably impressed.

///

_Nexus-6 preproduction schedule, S-Class through A-Class production notes...yes, I think that's it._ Erik slid the hypercard out of the drive and put it in his briefcase. Then...

_Select all, right-click, shift-delete. Done._ The files disappeared, then he security wiped the network drive's empty space. Digging through the pile of hypercards on the desk, he soon found the "ADP-safe" copy of the lab's records and copied them to the empty folder.

His work done, Erik glanced at the Replicant lying on the floor, her blonde hair thrown around her face in every direction like a halo. Her face was pale white and marked with black around the eyes and lips; her clothing was newly accented with feathers. Nearby, Kathy lay on a lab table, face down. There was an apple-sized EMP burn in the center of her back.

_Damned Stahleraben._ His lip twitched a bit as he remembered the sound of their voices, warped to match Crimson's: _She's dead, Erik..._ Over and over and over...

_So what do I do...?_ He put his head in his hands, took a deep breath. 

_White rabbit... Follow the white rabbit! Oh, Shaine, if only you knew what an idea that is..._

///

Lying there between the two of them, Hase wished she could sleep like her Boomers. Fourteen years of the growing effects of Boomer Syndrome and all she really cared about was not being able to get a good night's sleep anymore.

Well, that was probably the Boomer Syndrome, too.

The only comfort in the midst of the dead, dull wakefulness was the cool breeze playing over her bare skin. She imagined the room would be too cold if she left the windows open until morning, but considering the numbness of her body from mid-thigh down, she didn't give a damn.

Hearing her computer terminal begin to chime in the other room, she sat up and tried to rub some additional feeling back into her legs. Crawling to the foot of the bed and then standing up, she realized she could hear music, too: _...Feel pushed up against the wall/And then one day it just almost goes away/You spend lots of time alone..._

_I left the CD player on again?_ She shrugged the question off. Didn't matter.

There was a new message in her mailbox, and it was from Erik. She smiled grimly and opened it.

_Bunny, I need a new Replicant like the last one you made for me. Please send it down as soon as you can. Also the new weapons on the Nexus-6 are jamming; are you quite sure those designs are correct? Those damned birds have been at it again and I want to get the design up and running as soon as possible so that I can concentrate on my family._

The smile deepened as she typed in a response: _I'll have your Boomer for you, but the rest is your problem. Are you quite sure you remember how to fire a gun? As for the little cabbage, I told you she was trouble. Have some fun with those A-Class Replicants I sent you; that should take your mind off of things. Bunny._


	10. Ice

Ice

Ice  
_By Harris, Mitch, Shaine, and Shatterclaw_

It was 6am, and already two hours into the Ravens' day. Sealed in the comm room, most wore typical civilian clothing, but six of them were already in cold weather gear.

Crimson walked into the room and picked up the handheld remote for a projector on one wall. "This is Lieutenant Robert J. Amster," he said without preamble. "He disappeared a week ago; at the time he was using a new military-grade hardsuit. He has an outstanding background, top of his class at West Point; it's believed he's still alive."

The image on the wall was of a young man in his early thirties, with light brown hair and brown eyes.

"Hey, kinda cute, huh?" Shaine said, sounding half asleep.

"His family has posted a very large sum--"

"Yeah, bet he has at least four girlfriends..." Shaine glared at Belladonna.

"Of money..." Crimson continued wearily. He stopped again just long enough to glare at both Bell and Shaine. "If we can bring him back alive. The USMC has also posted a large sum of money if we can bring the suit back in one functional piece. I will not kid you, people. This is going to be a drag-down fight...everyone and their brother wants this suit."

"And our orders concerning these people?"

"Lieutenant Amster comes first, Mr. Harris. Anyone getting in your way can be stopped by any rational means. I ask only that you try not to harm the US troops. All else is up to your good judgment."

"Good judgment, eh? So be it..."

_Here we go again..._ Shaine thought.

"If any member of the team comes under fire your first and foremost concern is for them. Then to the mission. I want all of you back alive."

Mitch took a sip of his coffee to hide the grimace that formed on his face. _Great...more fun!_

"Now, a quick rundown on what you can expect to find down there. Genom has been selling Boomers to all sides so you can be sure that every model of combat Boomer will be on hand... The US forces have the new M278a cold-weather tanks; those have 125mm cannons and a crew of five. We believe that the Soviet Bloc has as many as ten units of comparable tanks."

"And how does that concern us directly?" Jim asked. "We do have the cloaks if needed."

"Simple: they all want the same thing, Amster. The suit is a top-of-the-line black ops unit."

Shaine raised an eyebrow. "Any idea where it came from?"

"This is where things get interesting. It is said to have a working cloaking device, and it is slightly larger than a man. 

"Sound familiar people?" he asked dryly.

"Well, then," Jim said, "There should be an advantage if it's one of ours."

"That's a pretty big if; so far all of this is unconfirmed. But it has a lot of people nervous."

"Why are we even bothering to talk about this? We have our orders. Let's carry them out as quickly as possible, before we lose our chance to recover the suit."

"So be it. The jet is waiting and your new suits are on board. For this mission Rai is pilot and Lark is top kick; everything else is left up to you. Now go and bring him back."

///

Rai, Lark, Jim, Mitch, Belladonna and Shaine stood beside the large black and red plane, with Crimson beside them, helping them with the new suits.

Harris scowled suddenly and asked, "Who's in charge if things go bad?"

"Lark, then you if it get really bad."

"All right..."

"You get to pick who comes after you."

"I don't think a third choice will be necessary."

_No, he'd get us all killed first..._ Shaine shivered, but it was mostly masked from view by the bulky new hardsuit.

Harris looked at the other two nestlings, shaking his head.

_Or shoot us himself..._

"It had better not be, or I come into the afterlife and kick your ass!"

Mitch laughed as Jim walked away to get into his suit. It was cold, and felt damned odd...he still hated it. But he was getting used to it. 

At the same time, Shaine began to check the tracking devices. They were hacked together from a dozen different Starbright programs, as she'd never been that good with anything remotely hardware-related, but they worked.

After all five had their suits adjusted, they were loaded into the AR and then into the plane, which soon started moving. 

Mitch looked over the systems on his suit and smiled. "New toys! I love it!"

"Yeah, Mom spent weeks on this stuff. Just don't go and lose any of it or she'll really flip out! So, um...does anyone else feel like a sardine?"

Mitch laughed.

"Hey yeah, all we need is some olive oil...maybe some salt...and we could be Raven brand fresh-packed meat!"

"Okay, guys," Rai's voice came over the intercomm, "Just to let you know, we're going into some rough weather. The cloak is working and we have clear skies till a mile before the shore. After that, I set you down and try to play keepaway with the friendly fire."

///

Before long the armored transport was on the ice. "Okay, people, time for recon!" Belladonna said much too cheerfully. "Whoever gets the short straw gets to go make snowmen!"

_Go out, already? Hell, with my luck it's almost assured I'll get the short straw..._ Watching Lark and Mitch breathe a sigh of relief as both drew their straws, Shaine stepped forward nervously.

She was right.

"C'mon, Harris, it's your turn!" Bell grinned devilishly and held out the remaining three straws. He also proved to have bad luck, and Shaine glanced at him nervously out of the corner of one eye. _Well. Looks like this is it._

"All right, so you two got the cold weather gig," Bell said, grinning even more widely.

"Of course," Harris muttered. "Let's go."

Outside, a strong wind howled across glacial ice. The two could only see about five feet ahead of them, without the suit's built-in enhancements. There was a firefight about 45 feet away and roughly to the south, plus an unidentifiable radar blip. The blip was moving away from the fight, and after a few seconds it was almost directly beneath them.

Harris felt the ice beneath him begin to crack. _What...?_ He looked down, then back up and around, and moved away, engaging his cloak. 

Shaine, noticing that something odd was happening but not fully understanding, backed up a step. "Huh?"

Large chunks of ice erupted from the previously stable place where Harris had been standing. It was quickly transformed into a massive sinkhole, at the bottom of which could be seen a blocky figure.

The thing began to move. Shaine engaged her cloak. "Shit! What _is_ that?"

The four-legged Battlemover, marked with Genom insignia, lumbered out. It was a new model which neither had seen before, massive and carrying what appeared to be two guns.

"Hmmm. Do you want this one, Shaine, or should I take care of it?"

"It's all yours, Murder Machine."

"No, please...I insist."

"This is a test, isn't it?" She sighed. "Fine.

"I just hope you enjoy this."

Harris stepped away to the left, watching and trying to figure out where the pilot (if any) would be.

There was a bright flash of light as two blue-white streaks issued from Shaine's suit. The beam missiles hit dead center, and the Battlemover was knocked over onto its side.

"Good shot. Now finish it."

Shaine stepped forward to scan the Battlemover. The shots had ripped through its six-inch reinforced armor plating; the driver was still alive and crawling out of the cockpit but would soon die from the cold anyway.

_Better make it fast. Thou art God...forgive me for spilling your water._ She fired again, straight at the driver, wincing.

Heading toward the Battlemover, she went into the cockpit. As she got closer she could see that the outer shell was pockmarked and covered with scorches. A few strange lines marked places where the armored hull had been partially melted.

_Spill water? I should have said boil..._ She tried very hard not to look at the pilot's body as she copied over the Battlemover's data recorder. _Can't throw up, not in this suit...then you really will be in trouble...can't look at it, can't think about it, nonono..._

Once the copy was complete, she destroyed the original and swiftly climbed out to see Harris watching her. "Find anything of use?"

"Yeah I got a copy of the data recorder."

"And what's on it?"

"Yeah...um, it's got the last known location of this Amster, plus a vid of his suit. Whole bunch of other things too." She sounded unenthused. "Looks like the jackpot."

"Well, then. If you have the information we need let's get out of here."

"Okay..."

"Then shall we see if we can find Amster, or pick on Genom some more?"

She sighed. "Let's get it over with. However you think that ought to be done."

"Then let's go get Amster."

///

Mitch stared out the window at a howling inferno of snow. "It's getting below negative twenty degrees out there!"

Belladonna frowned. "They sure have been gone a long time..."

"Yeah. ...Let me check something..."

"Um, okay..."

"Don't worry, Bell. James and Shaine will be back soon. Why don't you go see what Lark is up to."

As Belladonna went to the front of the RV, Mitch activated a radio link to Shaine. "Freefall, this is Wolverine, over."

"I'm here, Wolverine." Her voice was dull and flat. "What's the problem?"

"What's your status?"

"We just ran into a Genom Battlemover and destroyed it. The data recorder had some information on Amster, and we're headed toward his last known location."

"I was just wondering how the suits are holding up."

"Yeah, they're fine."

"Good. Let me know if you two see anything."

Shaine could hear Belladonna's voice in the background: "Is that them?"

"Yeah."

"Ooh, ooh, are they all right? What's _taking_ them so long?"

"They're fine, Bell!" Mitch grinned.

"Why don't you ask them if they want us to meet up with them?"

Shaine activated a private link to James. "Hey, Harris, you want backup?"

"Want to talk to them, Bell? Make it quick, they're busy!"

She ran over with all the speed and enthusiasm of a puppy who's spotted a squirrel. "Hello? Freefall?"

"Hi, Bell."

"Hey, do you want us to hook up with you? This Amster guy could be dangerous."

"I'll ask Harris" She switched over to the private comm again. "Harris, they need an answer."

In the background, she could hear Mitch again: "Relax, Bell! If they need help they'll ask."

"Tell them what you want," Harris muttered.

"We're fine out here, Bell. No need to worry."

"Ooookaaaayyy...Raven base out!" She cut the signal.

///

The Battlemover's records led James and Shaine to a hole in a rock face. "This is where he was last seen. In there."

James nodded and made his way into the tunnel, looking around cautiously. The walls had been blasted smooth by some incredible force, and after about twenty feet the twisting passage gave way to a circular room.

"Freefall, Snakebite, come in!"

"We're here. We've just entered a man-made room about twenty feet below the surface." The signal was staticky.

"A plane and three Battlemovers just headed past here. They're headed for you. --Correction: five groups of seven planes. Four groups of Battlemover Boomers, four to a group."

"Acknowledged." Shaine muted the radio signal. James was standing in the middle of the room, seemingly doing nothing. "Sooo...are we just going to stand here and wait for the Black Oil to get us?"

The room was a mess. There were empty plastic wrappers that had once held Green Foods ration bars, more wrappers and boxes from MREs, odds and ends of mecha parts, clothing, wires...

"It's a battle between Japan, the US, New USSR, Iraq...and Genom," Mitch added.

James shook his head. "This is a waste..."

He spotted a map lying next to a pile of dirty clothing. There were a few splotches of blood on it, fresh...maybe a few hours old. He picked it up and studied it carefully.

"Hey, Freefall...you know that little battle I told you about?"

"Harris?"

He unfolded the map.

"_Hey,_ Snakebite!"

"Come in, Freefall, over."

"I'm here, Wolverine." She walked toward James. 

"You know that battle I told you about?"

Her eyes widened when she saw the map. "Shut up."

There were large, red circles on the map, each marked with a name: _Point 1, Point 2, Point 3, Point Charlie 2, Alpha Point 1... _And Point Charlie had a huge "X" on it.

"It's headed straight for you two from the west. Check your radio."

"Headed for us?"

"Confirmed. Maybe two miles away. You need to get out fast."

James turned to Shaine, handing her the map. "You remember what you said about not wanting to die just because I couldn't get off my ass?"

"Yes."

"Well...now it's my turn."

He shook his head. "Getting worried now?"

"You're lucky I don't deal with my problems the way you do." She frowned. "Freefall to Wolverine. Is there a way back to the transport which is clear of enemy troops?"

"Why? Do you think you could actually kill me?" 

"Affirmative, but the battle will cross over the path soon."

"Damn." She seemed not to have heard James. "Tell me how to get out then."

"Go around the Japan encampment. It's the long way, but it's safe."

"All right." She walked toward the tunnel.

"Shaine."

"What?"

"Come here."

_Not this again..._

"Take this map and see what you can do with it. I'm staying behind; we can't let anyone else find this place."

"Then you're stupid and you'll die."

"And you have a problem with that?"

"No."

He shook his head as he watched her leave.

///

Harris armed his missiles, then headed for the cave's entrance. _Wonder how much time I have before the assholes show up..._ He sighed and fired into the cave. Backing away several more yards, he fired again to make certain nothing could get past the rubble.

He heard a low, growling noise behind him...

Turning around quickly, his cloak still engaged, he moved leftward. There was a wave of movement near where he'd been, and it slowly resolved itself into a humanlike form. A partial Boomer body hung from the back of the other hardsuit, tendrils reaching around the body and penetrating the suit's chest near the heart. Dried blood and shit covered it in places. _Amster...?_

_I wonder if it can see me..._ He stared back at it, not moving. The other suit raised its arm, a large tube extending out toward him. A clicking sound issued from it. He dodged left swiftly, the weapons barrage from Amster's suit flashing just over one shoulder. 

"Ge-om must diiiee..." it hissed.

"I'm not Genom!"

///

"Freefall, come in! We're two miles from Harris's position; that's as close as we can get without running into company. Can you see us on your radar?"

"Yeah. But Harris isn't coming."

"Is he all right?"

She clutched the map tighter. "Yeah, if you call being that fucked up in the head all right... He's juuuust fiiiine..."

"Zoom in on our position." Mitch changed comm channels. "Snakebite, come in!"

Still eyeing Amster warily, he snapped, "What is it?"

"What is your status?"

"Obviously fine for the moment..."

"I've got the RV two miles away from your position and Freefall is headed there. 

"Come on, James! There's a battle headed your way, and they're all interested in whatever it is you've got there."

"Ge-om must die..." Amster croaked again, and began to aim with another weapon.

James stepped forward quickly and launched his slingers at Amster. The other man...if it was still a man...was entangled and began to waver on his feet. The eyes of the Boomer's head glowed a fierce red.

///

Shaine glanced at her suit displays. _Harris just fired his slingers? Damn...he's got to have something heavy going down over there..._ Biting her lip, she turned and made her way back to where the cave had been.

///

Pulling back with all of his strength, James dragged Amster to the ground, then triggered the slingers' shock pulse. Amster struggled against the cables until the pulse hit, then went limp. His head lolled to one side. The suit fired a grapple and began to pull away again. It - he? - was too weak, however, and all it did was drag James along with it.

"Freefall, come in! Do you need backup? Over."

"Negative." She raced through the tunnel, finally reaching the ruins of the cave's entrance. "Shit, Harris, you just get into the strangest situations..."

Amster whirled around at the sound of her voice, then went limp again.

She fired her grapple, shivering at the sight of the Boomer head behind Amster's own. It was trying to look at her...

"So are we gonna have to drag him back or what?" James continued to use the shock on Amster, and Shaine followed suit. A small wisp of smoke issued from beneath the suit's collar.

_Damn...could just end this with an EMP pulse...but we don't know what it would do to him..._

James let one cable loose and aimed his sniper rifle at the Boomer's head. He hit it dead on, sending it reeling backwards. Sparks flew and a black goo began to spread across the white snow. He pulled on the suit with the cable he'd left attached. Amster was heavy; even with the added strength of his own suit he could feel the strain.

Amster felt it and his head jerked. He started to look around.

"Hey, take it easy. We're all friends here."

"H...ep...ma..."

"Yes, we're going to help you. We're going back to our base, and you'll be able to get some medical attention there."

"Si...tt... Nob...ith..."

"What?" Amster fainted. "Damn."

"Shaine, get him out of here." A small trickle of blood began to form underneath the rogue hardsuit.

"Dammit...!" She began to pull on the cables, trying to drag him toward the surface.

"Remember why you left in the first place? Well, there's no time left..." He let the second cable loose and began examining his radar and other scanning systems. There was an army coming up from the east, with no visible identifying marks...five miles and closing... Two miles away, a US force was forming up.

"Wolverine, come in! We have Amster."

"Yes!"

"I'm headed back to base with him but he's wounded. And Harris...I don't know about Harris."

"I'm staying. You get back there with Amster."

"I'll have the med kit ready, Freefall."

"I think he's going to need more than a medkit!"

"What do you need, then?"

"I don't know. A Boomer fused with his suit. Extent of the damage unknown."

"Pull out the medbay," Lark called. "I know enough to patch him up...I think..."

"He's bleeding through the suit. Not sure how bad it is. And he fainted."

She grunted, unsure how much faster she could go with the second suit in tow. _Fast enough. That's all I need to think about._

///

There were fifteen anti-tank Boomers headed his way, along with twenty air defense and five commandos. 

_Time to play cat and mouse,_ Harris thought.

The unit had five squads of ground tanks, probably air cover to go with it...

He chuckled. "Here kitty, kitty..." Targeting the front line with his missiles, he fired the last two rounds. They hit, turning the front line Boomers to slag and creating a trench of melted ice where the war machines had stood.

The US forces fired at the trench, sending shells flying over his head. A wall of snow and ice flew into the air.

_Wait a minute...could they think...I'm Amster?_ Four shells exploded beside him, pushing that revelation aside in his thoughts. He flung himself out of the way, and started running away from the RV.

_I sure as hell hope they'll follow me..._

///

"I need some help here!" Only a few feet away from the RV, Shaine was barely able to keep dragging Amster along. Another suit appeared and lifted the Marine...had to be Mitch. Shaine detached the cables and followed him into the RV.

Leaving her suit on, she watched Lark and Mitch lift Amster onto the medbed. "I'm not sure how much damaged the Boomer did," she warned.

_What the...?_ The hardsuit seemed to be regenerating where the Boomer had torn at it. _Can our suits do that?_

"Oh, yeah, and if you check the radar...there's a big-ass tidal wave of snow headed our way. Looks pretty bad. Just thought you'd want to know..."

Lark left Mitch to tend Amster and headed for the front of the RV. "Wolvie, do you want to pick up Harris?"

///

"Snakebite, come in!"

_Damn. Not now._ He turned off his comm. _They must've tapped it already. Can't let them know I'm not Amster..._

The troops seemed to be following him, but were drifting off to the north. If they kept that up they'd lose him before too long...and maybe head toward the others instead...

James turned toward the US forces and fired his lasers, aiming them just short of hitting anything. They fired back in his general direction, some close but none too near to worry about.

_Now let's give them something to think about!_ He cloaked, then suddenly cut the power. The suit slowly decloaked, giving the appearance of an equipment malfunction. Moving toward them again, he fired another laser burst.

"Lieutenant Amster, this is General Douglas. Do you copy? ...Damnit, Amster, come in!"

///

///

Harris stopped firing. He stood still, watching the approaching army...then, when they had closed to only a few hundred yards he cloaked again, heading north. Powering up his lasers, he hoped the increase in energy output would be enough for the US troops to be able to track him.

_Pathetic. What is that they're using...some kind of beam? Just random sweeps? No wonder no one else found Amster._

_This has gone on long enough._ Powering down the lasers and decloaking, he turned the comm to maximum vocal masking and opened a link to the US forces. "This...Amster..."

"It's about time! Get your ass over here, Lieutenant!"

"Who...you?"

"Damnit, Amster, this is General Adam Douglas...you mother brother..."

"No...you...Ge-nom. Must kill..." He cut the comm and fired at the front line.

Air cover began passing overhead...they were dropping nets. Damn. He cloaked and began moving, engaging his laser sword. 

A net hit the ice, and an energy field crackled where it had hit. It looked like EMP.

"Shit..."

_Don't like this...but not much choice..._ He turned back toward the US forces, holding his position and firing at the wheels of the tanks with his laser.

He opened the comm to the RV again. "Snake has been bitten...north 1000 feet..."

///

Amster's eyes fluttered open.

"Call me when he wants us to pick him up."

The short one - probably the same one from the cave, he thought, tensed. _She's not happy about something..._

"Lieutenant Amster, this is General Douglas. Do you copy? ...Damnit, Amster, come in!"

"Sir, I can hear you! Over." No response. "Sir?"

Amster began to pull on the restraints. "Damnit, is that you out there?" 

The tall redhead activated a jamming signal. "Shaine, he's up!"

"Yeah, I noticed." That was Short Woman.

"Help me!"

Amster relaxed a little, but Tall Red still tightened the restraints. This wasn't going to be fun.

"Ease up," Short snapped.

"Who are you?"

"We were hired by the US Government to bring you back. We're part of an independant agency...it's not important for you to know our name."

"Call me Woverine," That was Tall. "I'm going to get you out."

"Shut up." Short - Shaine - sounded like she'd been left in charge when Other-Tall from the cave stayed behind. Couldn't have a very high rank; she was clearly not prepared for this at all. "You're not helping."

"You need medical attention," Wolverine said. _No shit. ...What is this, the Men in Black?_

"What rank are you? What branch of the Service are you from? --Did they fix the problem?"

"They didn't tell us about any problem." Shaine shook her head. "Damned groundpounders!"

_Air Force? I didn't know the AF had anything like this..._

"So what is this problem?"

"The synchronization system...did you find a way to fix it?"

"Not until I get him out of this monstrosity!" Wolverine interjected.

"Wait. We don't know if we can trust him. ...So, Mr. Amster...are you going to cooperate? Or go running off again? Shoot at us?"

"I can't move. Crippled." He grimaced. "Legs were replaced..."

"Let him out."

"Lung...Boomer did something to me... It's inside me now... Suit's done something..."

"Damn! Never mind. We've got to figure out how bad the damage is before we can think of cutting him out."

Shaine must have run a bioscan on him...seemed the suits' tech were just as good as his own. "His lungs are fused with the Boomer's weapons control! We'd better leave him tied down until we can find a way to disconnect it. What's Harris's status?"

"He's still playing hide and seek with the USA. Keeps firing on them." This was a second woman's voice, the one who'd helped get him onto the bed.

"Great," Shaine moaned.

Wolverine looked at her. "It'll take an hour of microsurgery to save him, and we can't do it here."

"How long does he have if we leave him like this?"

"He also needs a doctor and a clone tissue generator...a day at best."

"Great...and Harris still has his comm turned off?"

"We could do a laser tight beam," said another female voice, "And override his comm."

"Do it."

"But if he ignores us, it'll be the same... I need time. Maybe ten minutes?"

"Fine."

Just then, a voice came over the radio: "Snake has been bitten...north 1000 feet..."

///

James engaged the cloaking device on his inner suit. _Crimson is going to bitch...but let him..._ Waiting until the tanks had fired he ejected from the outer suit and was thrown away from the blast. The shell of the suit went up in a plume of smoke; moments later, the reactor blew and it billowed into a fireball. 

_Not much time. Have to find the others..._

"Come in, Snakebite!" It was Bell...seemed to be coming over the comm system. 

"I'm here."

"Do you want pickup?"

"Eventually...if you have a moment?"

"Fuck, that was dumb! ...Okay...where?"

He turned to look at the US forces, who were slowly moving in on the remains of the heavy suit. Four flashes of light glimmered overhead, and a door opened. He looked up...

A small figure in a heavy suit stepped down from the door. It could have been Belladonna, but somehow he knew it was Shaine.

_About damned time..._

A while later he'd been hooked up to a heater and they were headed for Chicago. Shaine was nowhere to be found. _Damn...you'd think she'd have a smartass comment the second I got here..._

He shook his head and sighed. _I find him...help catch him, keep the enemy away from him...then make the enemy think he's dead...figures._

_Life's a bitch, then you get chewed out for trashing the hardsuit._

Crimson came to see him in the medbay, but never said a word about the suit. And later, as the day drifted away into evening, he thought he felt a small hand against his cheek but he was too far gone into sleep to be sure.

The next day, he found a note from Crimson next to the medbed.

_Better get this out of the way. _

///

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, sit down. ...Would you like something to drink?"

"No. Thank you."

"Your losses on the mission...would you say they were justified?"

"Depends on how you look at it. I was given my orders..."

"I'm asking how _you_ look at it. You took a big risk - but saved the whole team. And Amster."

James said nothing.

"Damnit, Harris, you make me wonder... Half of the time I think you don't want to be here. I'm not sure how you truly feel about the others, and in most respects I shouldn't give a damn. You're hired guns, right?"

"Yes."

"But you did good." Crimson turned his back to Harris. "One day, there were seven of us. Seven brave...stupid...young fools. Each of us were 'hired guns.' Then we began to die.

"Of that seven, there are only two now.

"You did good, Harris. Take a few days off. Get some rest."

"Thank you, sir, but that's not why I'm here. I'm no good to you resting."

"I know."

"And I would feel even less good about it if I were actually doing so."

"You want another mission?"

"If you have one, yes."

"There are a few...nothing major."

"Whatever you feel I'm ready for."

Crimson handed him a palm pad. On it was a profile of a Boomer shop owner...and his illegal sales of recycled parts. Harris read it, then looked up at him.

"The ADP have overlooked him due to a possible contact at Genom."

"How shall I deal with him?"

"Find him, find proof...I'd like to see him go to jail."

"Jail." He shook his head. "And when he gets out he'll do the same thing again..."

"He's guilty of hurting a lot of people...justice should be played out...but he won't go easy."

"If he doesn't slip through the cracks along the way."

"That's where we come in. There's something we saved of his... Get me whatever you can find, then leave the stuffed pig on his desk, hogtied. He may go to jail, but in all likelihood you will have to kill him."

He nodded. "So find him...get whatever evidence...then kill him."

"Just remember, his kind needs to know about this. If you kill him, take his body to Julian Luna, the local mob boss. Rumors have it Luna pays this creep to kill people."

"Why?"

"I want him to know he's not safe. Genom knows we're out here; so should Luna."

"Why not go after Luna as well?"

"Oh, but we will...I just need to clear the path to Luna. He has too many people in his pockets."

"I see."

"Then we can go in with guns blazing."

"Well, then. When I meet Luna I will try to refrain from killing him..."

"We'll never get to Luna...unless we make his people see that there's no way away from us."

"I'll make sure they know."

"Think you can do that? Good, man." Crimson smiled. "We have a new hardsuit for you."

"Oh?"

"One that will let you use some of your talents to the best. Faster, more power, with built-in sniper guns. I'm afraid it won't be ready for another day or so. 

"But you will be able to 'cloak' yourself into other people..."

"Useful indeed!"

"You'll have to tread softly, of course. You do still make noise in the damned thing."

"How does it work?"

"We have a new type of scanner. It can read in the face, the body movements... The cloak itself is light bent around you, and this molds it into a humanlike form."

"All right."

"Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few phone calls to make." _Sylia..._

"Of course." Harris stood and left.


End file.
